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ENGLISH   DIARIES 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

THE  CAMEL  AND  THE  NEEDLE'S  EYE 

THE  DECLINE  OF  ARISTOCRACY 

DEMOCRACY  AND  DIPLOMACY 

WARS  AND  TREATIES  (1815-1914) 

A  CONFLICT  OF  OPINION  (a  discussion  on 
the  Failure  of  the  Church) 

RELIGION   IN   POLITICS 

THE  PRIORY  AND  MANOR  OF  LYNCH- 
MERE  AND  SHULBREDE 


WITH  DOROTHEA  PONSONBY 
REBELS  AND  REFORMERS 


;nglish  diaries 

A  REVIEW  OF  ENGLISH  DIARIES  FROM 
THE  SIXTEENTH  TO  THE  TWENTIETH 
CENTURY    WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION    ON 

DIARY  WRITING 
BY 

ARTHUR  PONSONBY,  M.P. 


'  No  kind  of  reading  is  so  delightful,  so  fascinating, 
as  this  minute  history  of  a  man's  self." 

MACAULAY 


( 


% 


.^ 


^ 


% 


'^ 


METHUEN  &  GO.    LTD. 

36   ESSEX    STREET    W.C. 

LONDON 


'*, 


First  Published  in  1923 


PRINTED  IN   GRBAT  BRITAIN 


To 
J.  P. 

AND 

F.  E,  G.  P. 


CONTENTS  _^ 

PREFACE vii 

INTRODUCTION— Diary  Writing ^ 

CHRONOLOGICAL   LIST   OF   DIARIES    .  .  .  .  45 

SIXTEENTH-CENTURY   DIARIES    .....       55 

SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY  DIARIES  : 

Sir  Simonds  d'Ewes "^1 

Sir  Henry  Swngsby  ...••.•       "^6 

Samuel  Pepys      .         .         • ^2 

John  Evelyn       ....••••       ^^ 

Henry  Teonge    ...•••••  l^T^ 

SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY   MINOR   DIARIES  .  .11 

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY    DIARIES  : 

John  Wesley       ....••••  IS- 

The  Earl  of  Egmont.    ......  16'. 

Fanny  Burney  .....-••  ^'^^ 

William  Windham       .....••  18^ 

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY   minor   diaries   .  .  .  19f 

1 

nineteenth-century  diaries: 

B.  R.  Haydon 254 

Byron 264 

ix 


X  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

NINETEENTH-CENTURY  DIARIES— conf.  : 

CuAULES  Greville        .......  272 

William  Cobbett          .......  280 

Queen  Victoria  .         ...         .         .         .         .          .  288 

Caroline  Fox      ........  300 

General  Gordon          .         .         .         .         .         .         .  306 

NINETEENTH-CENTURY   MINOR   DIARIES   .  .  .314 

TWENTIETH-CENTURY    DIARIES 424 


J 

( 


DEX 4*5 


PREFACE 

I  WAS  attracted  to  the  study  of  Diary  writing,  not  by  the 
well-known  diaries  which  are  a  part  of  English  history 
or  literature,  but  by  the  fragments  of  journals  of  quite 
obscure  people  which  are  tucked  away  in  the  collections  of  archa- 
ological  and  other  learned  Societies  or  unprinted.  They  seemed 
to  me  so  human  in  their  interest  that  they  were  worthy  of  being 
better  known.  In  fact,  when  embarking  on  my  collection  I  was 
inchned  at  first  to  leave  out  the  celebrated  diarists.  The  dividing 
line,  however,  would  have  been  too  difficult  to  draw,  and  a 
book  which  was  to  be  a  study  of  diary-writing  would  have  been 
incomplete  if  the  best  examples  were  omitted. 

Once  I  began  to  collect  I  found  the  field  opened  out  pretty 
widely.  There  were  pubhshed  diaries  some  of  which  had  been 
forgotten,  there  were  privately  printed  diaries,  there  were  manu- 
script diaries  in  hbraries  or  in  private  houses,  and  there  were 
diaries  absorbed  by  or  scattered  in  biographies.  I  had  to  put  a 
limit  to  the  range  of  my  net.  Tempted  as  I  was  by  the  great 
foreign  diarists,  I  soon  saw  there  was  obviously  material  enough 
at  home.  Even  within  the  United  Kingdom,  if  part  of  my  object 
was  to  unearth  what  was  little  known,  I  found  I  should  have  to 
confine  myself  to  England  alone.  This  deprived  me  of  some 
specially  good  diaries,  such  as  Sir  Walter  Scott's,  Carlyle's,  Sir 
John  Moore's,  Swift's  and  John  Mitchel's.  But  to  reach  the  more 
obscure  diarists  in  Scotland  and  Ireland  special  research  on  the 
spot  would  be  necessary.  In  England  alone  I  found  indeed  as 
much,  if  not  more,  than  I  could  manage.  The  only  other  limita- 
tion I  imposed  on  myself,  and  that  very  willingly,  was  that  my 
diarists  should  not  be  living. 

I  have  not  set  out  to  select  the  best  diaries  or  even  only  good 
diaries.  My  object  has  been  to  give  a  full  representation  of  all 
shades  of  diary-writing,  long  and  short,  historical,  public  and 
private,  good,  bad  and  indifferent. 

In  the  reviews  which  follow  the  Introduction  each  diary  is 
dealt  with  separately.  After  much  consideration  I  found  this 
a  better  way  than  grouping  them.     The  diaries  are  treated  more 

vii 


viii  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

from  the  subjective  point  of  view  as  illustrations  of  the  method, 
manner,  and  character  of  their  authors,  than  from  the  objective 
point  of  view,  that  is  to  say  the  consideration  of  the  subjects 
about  >vhich  they  wrote.  I  have  not  attempted  an  impartial  and 
colourless  survey  which  would  give  every  diary  the  same  amount 
of  attention,  leaving  the  reader  to  form  his  own  judgment.  But 
I  have  criticised  freely  and  expressed  my  own  individual  opinion 
and  preferences  at  the  risk  of  failing  to  secure  in  all  cases  a  full 
measure  of  agreement  from  my  readers.  I  have  thought  it  well 
to  insert  a  few  biographical  notes,  specially  in  the  case  of  more 
or  less  unknown  people. 

Privately  printed  and  manuscript  diaries  have  been  kindly 
lent  to  me.  Some  of  the  diaries  are  no  doubt  rare  and  out 
of  print,  but  many  are  available  in  any  large  public  library. 
They  are,  however,  not  always  easy  to  find,  because  diaries  are 
not  catalogued  as  diaries  ;  some  books  which  are  called  diaries 
are  not  diaries  at  all,  and  some  diaries  are  hidden  away  in  Lives,    j 

In  order  to  illustrate  fully  the  different  styles  and  methods, 
a  fair  number  are  included  in  the  series.  However,  I  may  quite 
Avell  have  missed  some  diaries  which  are  well  worthy  of  attention.* 
I  do  not  think  I  need  apologise  for  having  devoted  a  volume  to 
Enghsh  Diaries.  The  study  has  been  repaying,  and  the  subject 
is  one  that  has  hitherto  been  insufficiently  explored.  A  man 
who  buys  a  dog  immediately  becomes  interested  in  other  people's 
dogs.  On  this  analogy  I  hope  anyhow  the  diary-keepers  of  to-day 
may  like  to  know  how  others  have  kept  diaries  in  days  gone  by. 
I  am  indebted  to  the  owners  of  several  unpubhshed  manu- 
script diaries  wliich  have  been  placed  at  my  disposal.  The 
passages  quoted  from  them  appear  for  the  first  time  in  print, 
and  a  note  of  acknowledgment  is  inserted  in  each  particular  case. 
I  have  received  the  kind  consent  of  the  pubHshers  of  the  bio- 
graphies for  the  reproduction  of  the  diary  entries  which  have 
been  extracted  from  these  books.  My  thanks  are  due  to 
several  friends  who  have  helped  to  call  my  attention  to  certain 
diaries  which  I  might  otherwise  have  missed,  and  more  especially 
to  Mr.  Charles  Strachey,  C.B.,  for  his  valuable  assistance  in 
revising  the  proofs.  A.  P. 

Shulbbede  Pkiory, 
Sussex. 
1922. 


1  The  Farington  Diary  and  Sir  Algernon  West's  Diaries  appeared  too  late 
to  be  included ;  and  Mr.  Wilfred  Blunt  was  still  alive  when  the  book  was 
concluded. 


/: 


ENGLISH   DIARIES 

INTRODUCTION 

ON 

DIARY    WRITING 

THERE  is  a  verj^  clear  distinction  between  diary  writing  Diary 
and  other  forms  of  writing.     A  consciousness  of  some  ^^^*^^ 
literary  capacity,  however  meagre  it  may  be  or  however  with 
unjustified  any  such  assumption  may  be,   stands  beliind  every  other 
other  form  of  writing  except  letter  writing.     In  diary  writing  *°^.°^^ 
no  such  consciousness  need  exist  nor  indeed  is  any  literary  cap- 
acity necessary.     Diary  writing  is  within  the  reach  of  every  human 
being  who  can  put  pen  to  paper  and  no  one  is  in  a  more  advan- 
tageous position  than  anyone  else  for  keeping  a  diary.     People 
of  all  ages  and  degrees  who  may  never  have  ventured  to  write 
a  line  for  publication  and  may  be  quite  incapable  of  any  literary 
effort,  are  able  to  keep  a  diary  the  value  of  which  need  not  in  any 
way   suffer   from    their   literary  incapacity.     On   the    contrary, 
literary  talent  may  be  a  barrier  to  complete  sincerity.     Diaries 
may  or  may  not  be  called  literature,   some  undoubtedly  have 
literary  value,  but  this  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  their 
merit  as  diaries.^ 

A  diary,  that  is  to  say  the  daily  or  periodic  record  of  personal  Histoi 
experiences  and  impressions,  is  of  course  a  very  different  thing 
from  history,  although  some  of  the  older  diaries  have  been  of 
great  use  in  furnishing  the  historian  with  facts  and  giving  him 
examples  of  contemporary  opinion.  When  Greville  concludes 
one  of  his  entries  with  "  I  am  too  sleepy  now  to  go  on  with  the 
subject,"  one  feels  immediately  the  wide  distinction  between  the 
daily  contemporary  diarist-observer  depending  for  present  events 

^  In  the  four-voliime  history  of  English  hteratiire  edited  by  R.  Garnett  and 
E.  Gosse  only  about  a  dozen  of  the  diaries  mentioned  in  this  volume  are 
referred  to. 
1 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 


Autobio- 
graphy 


Letters 


only  on  his  own  eyes  and  ears  and  memory  and  the  historian 
making  his  balanced  estimate  of  the  past  from  the  mass  of  docu- 
ments with  which  he  is  surrounded.  For  a  true  judgment  of  the 
significance  of  public  affairs  one  must  of  course  await  what  Mr. 
George  Trevelyan  calls  "  the  slow  foot  of  history."  But  the 
incomplete  and  necessarily  restricted  comments  of  the  eye-witness 
have  a  merit  of  their  o^\^l  although  by  themselves  they  cannot 
be  regarded  as  history. 

A  diary  differs  from  autobiography,  as  in  the  one  we  get  the 
fresh  relation  of  events  at  the  moment,  and  in  the  other  the 
events  are  moulded  and  trimmed  into  a  unified  whole  more  often 
than  not  with  a  view  to  pubhcation,  such  for  instance  as  George 
Fox's  Journal,  which  is  not  a  daily  record  but  an  autobiographical 
survey.  Memoirs  and  Reminiscences  are  nearly  always  written 
for  pubhcation.  Modelled  though  they  may  be  on  diary  mem- 
oranda and  dated  periodically  they  are  presented  in  narrative 
form,  more  easily  read  perhaps,  with  all  the  roughness  and  repeti- 
tions of  diary  writing  eliminated  but  with  a  consequent  loss  of 
spontaneity  and  individuality.  There  are  cases  in  which  the 
(Mviding  line  between  memoirs  and  diaries  is  difficult  to  draw. 
But  as  a  general  rule  memoirs  do  not  record  the  events  of  the  day 
on  that  day. 

Lastly,  letter  writing  has  httle  or  no  resemblance  to  diary 
writing.  Letters  may  contain  fresh  impressions  and  personal 
confidences  and  confessions,  they  may  be  written  in  almost 
diary  form,  but  the  consciousness  in  the  writer  of  an  immediate 
recipient  exercises  a  restraint  on  the  author  and  produces  a 
certain  sort  of  self-consciousness  which  may  be  entirely  absent 
from  the  pages  of  a  diary.  Moreover  rarely  if  ever  are  they  found 
in  the  regular  and  complete  sequence  of  a  diary.  Every  one 
writes  letters  but  a  very  small  percentage  of  them  are  readable 
to  anyone  but  the  recipient.  Comparatively  few  people  keep 
diaries,  yet  it  would  seem  that  a  fairly  large  proportion  of  them 
have  some  sort  of  general  human  interest.  Letters  may  be  said 
to  have  two  parents,  the  writer  and  the  recipient.  Diaries  have 
only  one.  A  diary  can  be  written  with  no  thought  whatever  of 
the  discriminating  eye  of  a  pubhsher,  of  the  critical  eye  of  a  re- 
viewer, or  even  of  the  interested  or  bored  eye  of  a  reader.  No 
pause  is  needed  for  modelling  phrases,  no  attention  need  be  given 
to  form,  even  grammar  can  go  to  the  winds,  and  above  all  there 
need  be  no  explanations.  All  restraints  can  be  hfted  and  in  the 
open  fields  of  fact  and  fancy  the  diarist  can  browse,  repose  or 
gallop  along  at  his  own  sweet  will. 


DIARY   WRITING  3 

We  may  claim,  therefore,  that  diary  writing  is  a  unique  form 
of  writing.  The  Hterary,  the  learned  and  the  great  by  no  means 
necessarily  excel  in  this  particular  art.  It  is  confined  to  no  one 
class,  no  one  profession,  no  one  age  of  life.  Sovereigns,  scholars, 
sportsn^en,  tradesmen,  philosophers,  old  women,  and  children 
all  write  diaries. 

There   is  no  need  to   trace  the   genesis  of  diary   writing    far  Origin 
back  into  history.     Although  it  is  conceivable  that  documents  ^^^ 
of  the  nature  of  diaries  existed  in  England  before  the  sixteenth  of  "^^^ 
century  and  have  been  destroyed,  there  is  no  real  evidence  of  the  writing 
existence  of  what  we  now  know  as  private  diaries  in  the  previous 
centuries.     Instances  can  of  course  be  found  of  more  personal 
writing,  of  chronicles,  of  accounts,  or  of  reflections.     But  these 
are  not  diaries.     The  idea  of  writing  down  daily  thoughts  and 
notes    on  passing  events,   especially  when  it  takes   a  more  or 
less  introspective  form,  is  of  comparatively  modern  growth,  and 
would  seem  to  be  the  outcome  of  the  increasing  self-consciousness 
which  intellectual  development  has  produced  in  humanity.     It 
is  a  result  of  psychological  evolution,  of  expanding  self-knowledge      ^ 
and  subtler  powers  of  analysis.     As  the  centuries  pass,  the  diary- 
habit  seems  to  gain  ground  and  will  probably  assume  more  gener- 
ally an  introspective  form.     The  objective  journals  will  continue, 
but  the  more  acutely  analytical  diaries  like  Arthur  Graeme  West's 
(The  Diary  of  a  Dead  Officer)  and  Barbellion's  (The  Diary  of  a 
Disappointed  Man)  in  the  twentieth  century  are  likely  to  increase 
in   number,    more   especially   since   the   serious   introduction   of 
psycho-analysis. 

Some  people  may  be  reluctant  to  confess  to  their  contempor-  Diaries 
aries  that  they  are  keeping  a  diary.     That  is  why  diaries  are  ^®P* 
nearly  all   "  private  "  in    the   lifetime  of  the  author.     Anyone  P"^**® 
suspected  of  careful  diary-keeping  would  naturally  be  approached 
with  some  caution.     If  he  be  a  Pepys,  a  Burney,  or  a  Greville 
he  would  defeat  his  own  object  if  the  fact  were  generally  known 
that  he  was  taking  notes ;  his  friends  and  acquaintances  would 
become  reticent  and  shy  in  his  presence.     Anyone  making  inquiries 
about  diary-keeping  may  quite  well  be  met  with  a  denial  from  an 
habitual  diarist.     So  the  practice  goes  on,  so  to  speak,  quietly  and 
behind  the  scenes.     The  production  of  a  diary  in  a  law  court  is 
not  an  uncommon  occurrence.     A  few  people  burst  into  print  in 
their  lifetime,  but  many  diaries  are  discovered  afterwards,  some- 
times long  afterwards.     A  large  number  of  people  will  be  reluctant 
that  anything  they  have  written  of  a  private  character  should 
ever  reach  the  public  eye,  and  they  may  take  steps  to  prevent  it. 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 


Bio- 

graj/hies 


Classifica 
tion  of 
diaries 


Daily 
writing 


IndiscrO' 
tious 


A  classic  instance  of  a  diary  which  was  converted  into  a  Bio- 
graphy— but  an  unusual  case  because  it  was  the  diary  of  the 
Biographer  and  not  of  the  subject  of  the  Biography— is  Boswell's. 
It  was  a  detailed  objective  record  carefully  kept  for  a  specific 
purpose.  Boswell  was  known  even  during  a  meal  to  tak^  out  his 
tablets  and  make  notes  and  he  often  stayed  up  late  at  night  enter- 
ing every  incident  and  word  of  his  intercourse  with  Johnson. 
But  when  it  came  to  the  publication  of  his  great  book  he  aban- 
doned the  diary  form  except  for  the  Tour  to  the  Hebrides.  Frag- 
mentary extracts  from  diaries  are  sometimes  quoted  in  bio- 
graphies, as,  for  instance,  in  the  Tennyson  Memoir,  merely  to 
fill  up  gaps  in  the  chronological  sequence  of  events. 

But  taking  the  diaries  that  have  remained  more  or  less  intact, 
they  may  be  found  to  fall  roughly  into  three  classes  :  (i)  the 
regular  diary  record  with  only  occasional  breaks,  (ii)  the  periodic 
record  written  at  intervals  summing  up  several  days,  weeks,  or 
even  months.  These  two  classes  are  often  combined ;  and  (iii) 
the  diary  that  is  written  up  and  edited  by  the  author  in  later 
years  (the  dates  often  being  retained)  either  with  a  view  to  pub- 
lication or  because  he  or  she  in  retrospect  considers  a  better  com- 
position may  be  produced  by  emendation  and  by  the  pruning 
away  of  indiscretions. 

Daily  writing  differs  considerably  from  writing  even  a  few  days 
later.  The  impulsive  note  of  the  moment  catches  a  mood  and 
picks  up  an  impression  which  may  in  twenty-four  hours  evaporate 
and  which  in  a  week  or  month  will  have  entirely  disappeared. 
But  it  must  be  noted  that  daily  dates  do  not  always  necessarily 
imply  daily  writing.  The  methodical  daily  Avriter,  when  he 
misses  a  day  or  two,  writes  up  those  days  separately  under  their 
dates  when  he  resumes  his  writing.  A  daily  record  is  not  by 
any  means  more  accurate  ;  on  the  contrary  the  focus  is  too  strong, 
the  perspective  too  restricted  and  consequently  the  vision  is 
warped.  But  accuracy  is  no  particular  asset  in  diary  writing 
except  from  the  point  of  historical  research.  Many  daily  diaries 
are  rendered  priceless  as  human  documents  by  just  the  httle 
petty  trifling  details  which  after  a  few  hours'  reflection  the  writer 
would  have  omitted. 

Indiscretions  are  sometimes  the  colour  of  a  diary,  and  their 
removal  seriously  impairs  the  quality  of  the  writing.  Autobio- 
graphers,  and  more  especially  biographers,  may  find  themselves 
compelled  to  cut  away  personalities  from  the  more  modem 
diaries  in  their  fear  of  offending  the  susceptibilities  of  the  living. 
That  is  why  the  older  diaries,  where  no  such  scruples  need  exist, 


DIARY  WRITING  5 

are  often  more  real  and  more  human.  Biographers  who  are  in 
possession  of  a  diary  will  dismiss  all  passages  which  may  not 
reflect  credit  on  their  subject.  In  such  work  the  tendency  to 
idealise  prevails,  reputations  have  to  be  kept  up  and  heroes 
elevated  on  to  pedestals.  A  diarist's  undignified  little  details 
are  discarded,  but  actuality  and  truth  may  suffer.  No  editor 
can  be  trusted  not  to  spoil  a  diary. 

Diaries  definitely  WTitten  for  publication  obviously  differ 
very  materially  from  private  diaries.  As  Macaulay  said,  inten- 
tion to  publish  "  destroys  the  charm  proper  to  diaries."  But 
this  point  must  be  more  fully  considered  when  the  question  of 
motive  on  the  part  of  the  diarist  is  examined. 

Broadly   speaking   another   classification   may   be   applied   to  Historical 
diaries  :  (a)  those  which  are  of  historical  or  archaeological  value  ^^^,  P^7' 
on  account  of  the  subjects  of  which  they  treat  and  (6)  those  iater^t 
that  are  of  psychological  interest  on  account  of  the  light  they 
throw  on  the  personality  of  the  diarist.  i 

There  are  two  words  which  if  they  were  used  strictly  would 
help  to  draw  the  distinction  between  these  two  classes.  The 
word  Journal  should  be  reserved  for  the  purely  objective  historical 
or  scientific  records,  and  the  word  Diary  for  the  personal  mem- 
oranda, notes  and  expressions  of  opinion.  Some  it  is  true  might 
fall  across  the  division.  But  as  it  is,  the  words  are  used  quite  indis- 
criminately and  give  no  guidance  as  to  the  nature  of  the  record. 

Political,  historical  and  public  chronicles  such  as  Rugge's, 
Luttrell's,  Lord  Malmesbury's,  Greville's,  and  Senior's,  would 
come  under  the  first  heading,  although  some  of  them  contain 
personal  comments.  In  the  second  category  the  diaries  may  be 
found  to  be  a  good  deal  more  interesting  and  arresting.  A  shop 
assistant  (Strother)  or  a  storekeeper  (Thomas  Turner)  may  claim 
more  of  our  attention  than  one  who  has  lived  in  the  midst  of 
exciting  events  and  associated  with  important  people.  But  the 
variety  displayed  in  diary  writing  as  regards  method,  regularity, 
and  style  is  endless.  In  writing  history,  fiction,  or  even  letters 
you  may  adapt  your  style  to  the  model  of  some  admired  author. 
In  diary  writing  this  is  much  more  difficult.  If  you  are  making 
daily  entries  the  effort  is  too  great ;  you  have  no  time  to  think, 
you  do  not  want  to  think,  you  want  to  remember,  you  cannot 
consciously  adopt  any  particular  artifice ;  you  jot  down  the 
day's  doings  either  briefly  or  burst  out  impulsively  here  and 
there  into  detail ;  and  without  being  conscious  of  it,  you 
yourself  emerge  and  appear  out  of  the  sum  total  of  those 
jottings,  however  brief  they  may  be. 


6  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Motive  Why  do  people  write  diaries  ?     This  question  is  not  easy  to 

answer  in  a  sentence,  for  the  motive  seems  to  vary  widely  and 
is  sometimes  not  apparent  on  the  surface.  It  is  not  possible  to 
generalise  on  the  subject.  Cliildren  are  often  encouraged  to 
keep  a  diary  or  enjoined  to  keep  one  for  disciplinary  reasons, 
and  the  majority  of  them  find  the  effort  too  great,  and  discon- 
tinue it  when  they  grow  up.  Queen  Victoria  began  at  the  age 
of  13,  Elizabeth  Fry  before  she  was  16,  and  Fanny  Burney  at 
15,  if  not  earlier,  Gladstone  when  he  was  at  Eton,  and  all  of  them 
kept  it  up  to  the  end  of  their  lives.  Edward  VI  wTote  at  about 
the  age  of  12  and  an  instance  will  be  given  of  a  child  (Mary 
BrowTie),  who  wrote  for  a  special  period,  and  some  examples 
of  diaries  begun  but  not  continued  are  also  included.  Diaries 
begun  about  the  age  of  20  are  common,  but  there  are  also  many 
instances  of  regular  diary  writing  begun  at  a  later  age.  Pepys 
began  at  27,  Fynes  Chnton  at  28,  BjTon  at  30,  Windham  at  34, 
Rutty  at  56,  Bubb  Dodington  at  58,  and  so  far  as  continuance 
of  writing  is  concerned  there  are  the  cases  of  Henry  Crabb  Robin- 
son and  Edward  Pease,  who  w^ere  still  keeping  diaries  when  they 
were  over  90. 

Habit  The  habit  having  been  acquired,  either  in  youth  or  later,   a 

diarist  may  continue  without  having  any  clear  notion  with  regard 
to  the  eventual  fate  of  his  diary.  In  fact,  habit  and  nothing 
else  may  account  for  the  \vriting  of  a  good  many  diaries.  Habit 
also  will  make  a  methodical  man  keep  memoranda  of  his  doings, 
notes  and  accounts  for  future  reference,  as  Windham  puts  it, 
"  to  strengthen  the  powers  of  recollection."  Daily  single  line 
notes  have  been  entered  by  business  men  over  long  periods. 
A  case  is  known  of  a  very  methodical  diarist  who  before  he  wrote 
his  record  of  the  day  re-read  the  entries  of  corresponding 
dates  in  former  years.  It  is  clear  that  the  disciphnary  effort 
of  regular  wTiting  is  pleasant ;  and  as  time  passes  the  growing 
volumes  become  a  treasure. 

Egotism  But  beyond  the  child  age  and  beyond  bald  business  memoranda 
the  question  arises  :  Is  egotism  the  mainspring  of  diary  writing  ? 
The  answer  to  this  is  yes.  But  it  does  not  carry  us  very  far, 
because  most  people  are  egotists  whether  they  are  diary  writers 
or  not,  and  egotism  except  in  excess  ought  not  to  be  regarded  as 
a  fault.  In  some  cases  a  diary  may  be  a  sort  of  safety  valve 
for  egotism  and  outwardly  the  diarist  may  not  appear  to  be  so 
egotistical  as  a  more  obvious  egotist  who  wants  to  pour  out  his 
egotism  on  his  friends,  and  not  confine  it  to  the  pages  of  a  private 
note-book.     Indeed,   a  man  may  appear  very  reticent  socially 


DIARY  WRITING  7 

yet  all  the  while  he  may  be  unburdening  himself  privately  in  the 
pages  of  a  very  full  diary.  A  diarist  is  self-conscious  and  some- 
times perhaps  self-absorbed.  A  diary,  however,  may  simply 
serve  to  enable  the  writer  to  take  a  detached  point  of  view  of 
himself  which  will  be  helpful.  Egotism  in  its  extreme  sense 
cannot  be  said  to  be  universally  attributable  to  all  known  diarists. 
Vanity,  however,  in  varying  degrees,  sometimes  perhaps  in  an 
inordinate  degree,  can  more  accurately  be  recognised  as  the 
vice  of  many  diarists. 

The  autobiographer  is  a  notorious  egotist  and  usually  founds 
his  books  on  a  diary,  but  he  has  gone  a  long  step  further  than 
the  diarist.  There  are  well-known  instances  of  literary  men 
who  have  wrapped  autobiographical  episodes  in  a  more  or  less 
fictional  setting  in  their  endeavour  to  avoid  the  crudity  of  purely 
personal  disclosures. 

While  it  may  be  argued  that  the  highest  type  of  being,  so  self- 
less as  never  for  a  moment  to  consider  that  anything  he  thought 
or  did  was  worth  recording,  would  not  keep  a  diary,  he  anyhow 
is  a  rarity  ;  and  it  is  not  selflessness  which  prevents  most  people 
from  keeping  a  diary.  In  fact  it  is  impossible  to  classify  diarists 
as  a  type,  foi  among  them  may  be  found  all  sorts  and  conditions 
from  the  loftiest  to  the  most  common,  from  the  most  original 
to  the  most  conventional. 

Nevertheless  some  rough  analysis  of  motive  in  diary  writing  The  itch 
can  be  made.  Having  disposed  of  Habit,  we  come  next  to  "  the  °  record 
itch  to  record,"  which  is  an  overflowing  and  exuberant  desire 
for  self-expression.  People  who  witness  important  events,  come 
in  contact  with  celebrated  people,  or  themselves  have  interesting 
and  exciting  experiences,  have  a  natural  desire  to  write  about 
them,  without  any  clearly  formed  intention  as  to  what  they  will 
do  with  their  notes,  if  they  are  not  in  the  form  of  letters.  Some- 
times they  may  write  definitely  for  eventual  publication  or  some- 
times for  the  information  of  their  family.  But  the  mere  desire 
to  write  down  their  impressions  is  the  instinct  which  impels 
them.  So  strong  is  this  that  some  will  write  about  public  events 
which  they  have  not  witnessed  and  about  which  they  express  no 
opinion,  knowing  all  the  time  that  a  far  fuller  account  of  them 
will  be  given  in  newspapers  and  other  public  records.  Others 
may  confine  themselves  to  the  recital  of  special  personal  experi- 
ences in  a  particular  period  without  being  regular  diarists.  This 
sort  of  record  differs  to  some  extent  from  a  private  diary,  but 
we  will  consider  it  more  fully  when  we  reach  the  question  of  the 
various  subjects  dealt  with  in  diaries. 


8  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

ISurvey-  Without  any  excess  of  egotism  and  without  vanity  there  are 
ing  Life  pg^p^g  ^yi^-i^  orderly  minds  who  by  means  of  private  writing  want 
to  make  a  sort  of  survey  of  their  position  and  of  their  opinions 
as  well  as  of  events  which  concern  them.  They  have  sentiment 
and  feeling  for  the  past,  they  are  interested  in  the  stages  of  life's 
journey  and  they  do  not  want  to  leave  unrecorded  anything 
that  has  struck  them  deeply.  They  use  their  diary  pages  for 
clearing  their  minds,  for  threshing  out  human  problems,  for  taking 
stock  of  the  situation,  for  weighing  the  pros  and  cons  when 
they  find  themselves  confronted  with  dilemmas.  They  consider 
the  practice  useful.  They  may  even  derive  from  it  the  same 
sort  of  relief  as  others  find  in  prayer.  Some  may  write  down 
actual  prayers  while  others  will  as  an  equivalent  brace  themselves 
by  a  full  contemplation  of  the  facts  they  have  to  face  set  down 
in  writing.  Although  diaries  such  as  these  may  eventually 
find  their  way  into  print,  publication  is  not  present  in  the  minds 
of  the  writers. 
Self  in  old  Then  there  is  the  not  imcommon  desire  to  put  down  on  paper 
age,  and  an  account  of  daily  events  and  opinions  on  men  and  matters  for 
postenty  pg^^g^j  jj^  j^^gj.  ijfg_  ^hat  is  to  say,  some  people  feel  sure  that 
in  their  old  age  they  will  want  to  be  reminded  of  past  events 
and  of  their  changing  moods.  They  write  for  their  future  selves. 
They  store,  they  collect,  they  are  reluctant  to  lose  any  passing 
thoughts.  Some  again  desire  definitely  to  paint  their  own 
portrait  for  posterity,  and  as  they  write  they  are  conscious  of 
the  eyes  of  future  generations  perusing  their  record  though  they 
may  keep  it  locked  up  from  the  inspection  of  their  contemporaries. 
Posterity  will  know  less,  will  be  more  lenient,  and  may  accept  a 
man  at  his  own  valuation.  As  Greville  says  :  "  Some  will  pour 
forth  upon  paper  and  for  the  edification  and  amusement  of  pos- 
terity what  they  never  would  have  revealed  to  living  ear ;  but 
the  majority  of  those  who  indulge  in  this  occupation  probably 
only  tell  what  they  desire  to  have  known." 
Con-  In  this  connection  it  may  be  said  that  it  is  almost  impossible 

sciousness  j^j.  anyone  to  write  without  imagining  a  reader,  so  to  speak  at 
reader  the  other  end,  however  far  off  that  other  end  may  be — self  in  old 
age,  family,  a  friend,  the  public  or  remote  posterity.  Some 
diarists  face  this  question  openly,  many  seem  to  write  for  self 
in  old  age,  the  most  critical  reader  of  all,  although  they  do  not 
realise  that  as  they  write  ;  others  write  for  a  member  of  the 
family,  others  again  for  the  public ;  but  the  majority  leave  the 
matter  undecided  or  unrevealed.  We  cannot  know,  but  we 
should  be  inclined  to  think  that  the  case  of  a  person  keeping  a 


DIARY   WRITING  9 

regular  diary  with  a  definite  intention  throughout  of  destroying 
it  before  death  must  be  rare,  although  no  doubt  many  during 
their  lifetime  may  have  destroyed  diaries  that  have  been  begun, 
or  parts  of  diaries.  Johnson,  in  talking  to  Boswell  of  the  Journal 
the  latter  kept,  said  he  "  might  surely  have  a  friend  who  would 
burn  it  in  case  of  his  death."  Testamentary  injunctions  on  this 
point  may  have  existed.  But  most  diaries  have  been  left  or  dis- 
covered with  no  sort  of  clue  as  to  the  intentions  of  the  writer. 

Mr.  Parkinson,  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Chetham  Society's 
volumes,  says  on  this  question  of  consciousness  of  a  reader  : 
"  It  is  not  easy  to  call  to  mind  a  journal,  private  as  it  may  profess 
to  be,  which  has  been  undeniably  written  without  some  view  to  a 
possible  reader.  The  writer,  though  in  his  dressing-gown  and 
slippers,  still  seems  to  feel  that  some  privileged  friend  may  by 
some  possible  chance  rush  in  upon  his  privacy,  and  so  he  arranges 
his  undress  with  some  (perhaps  unconscious)  view  to  such  a 
casualty." 

This  question  of  a  possible  reader  becomes  psychologically  Intro- 
very  interesting  when  we  come  to  the  class  of  diaries  containing  ^®°^^"^® 
disclosures  which  reflect  no  sort  of  credit  on  the  writer.  And 
this  brings  us  to  a  distinct  and  not  uncommon  motive  in  diary 
writing  which  is  the  more  or  less  morbid  desire  for  self-analysis, 
self-dissection,  introspection,  and  even  self -revelation.  It  may 
take  the  form  of  private  thoughts  which  the  writer  feels  he  cannot 
communicate  to  any  friend  ;  it  may  take  the  form  of  confessions 
of  faults  and  resolutions  for  self-correction  ;  it  may  be  a  private 
vent  for  complaint  or  for  the  commonest  of  all  human  failings, 
self-pity  ;  it  may  be  a  self-indulgent  expansion  of  egotism,  or  an 
expected  aid  to  self-discipline.  It  has  been  known  even  to  take 
the  form  of  unrestrained  revelations  on  sexual  matters  with 
details  which  one  would  suppose  the  writer  would  shrink  from 
allowing  others  to  read.  If  sensuality  looms  large  in  the  inner 
consciousness,  the  attempt  of  diarists  to  note  it  is  anyhow  a  proof 
of  their  honesty.  So  strong  is  the  impulse  for  ruthless  self- 
dissection  in  some  natures  that  they  will  dehberately  lay  bare 
their  very  souls  with  an  almost  reckless  hope  that  posterity  shall 
see  them  naked.  But  in  the  majority  of  cases  the  confessions 
are  general  and  vague  ;  the  actual  reasons  for  self-condemnation 
are  not  specified.  The  diarist  generalises  on  his  weakness,  his 
sin,  his  lapses  without  always  recording  the  particular  occasion 
or  character  of  the  faults  in  question.  He  is  aware  of  his  failure 
and  wants  to  record  his  penitence,  and  by  aid  of  his  diary  to  make 
resolutions  for  improvement.     It  may  be  the  consciousness  of  a 


10  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

possible  reader  which  restrains  him  from  actually  relating  the  < 
fault  in  question.  Penitence,  however  vague,  will  be  counted  to 
his  credit,  the  description  of  the  fault  committed  might  lower 
him  in  the  estimation  of  posterity.  Introspective  writers  often 
seem  to  entertain  "  an  inferiority  complex  "  and  to  hope  that 
by  carefully  recording  their  symptoms  they  may  be  able  to  make 
some  helpful  diagnosis. 

We  have  our  Haydons  and  Barbellions,  but  the  most  famous 
instances  of  introspective  diaries  are  not  British.  There  is  some- 
thing alien  to  the  British  temperament  in  Tolstoy,  in  Amiel,  or  in 
Marie  Bashkirtseff  who  flourishes  her  dissecting  knife  and  cries  : 
"  I  not  only  say  all  the  time  what  I  think  but  I  never  contem- 
plate hiding  for  an  instant  what  might  make  me  appear  ridiculous 
or  prove  to  my  disadvantage.  For  the  rest  I  think  myself  too 
admirable  for  censure."  Reticence  and  reserve  are  national 
characteristics  outwardly  and  probably  inwardly  too ;  and 
among  available  English  diaries  there  are  none  which  extend 
the  practice  of  self-dissection  to  such  an  extreme  as  the  continental 
diarists.  Most  Englishmen  think  it  bad  form  to  be  too  expansive 
or  to  give  themselves  away.  They  conceive  it  improper  to 
write  down  their  innermost  feelings,  and  they  shun  like  the  pest 
anything  that  approaches  affectation. 
Self-con-  Although  the  honesty  and  sincerity  of  the  introspective  writers 
sciousness  ^^^y  ^^  beyond  question,  they  do  not  necessarily  by  their  method 
give  a  faithful  picture  of  themselves.  Indeed  it  is  not  through 
their  intentional  and  deliberate  self-dissection  that  we  really 
get  to  know  people.  Such  method  is  too  self-conscious  and  too 
artificial.  A  diarist  reveals  himself  or  gives  himself  away  by 
casual  and  quite  unpremeditated  entries  far  more  than  by  lab- 
orious self-analysis.  Thomlinson's  diary  is  a  good  instance  of 
this. 

We  think  we  know  ourselves  better  than  others  know  us. 
But  the  truth  is  we  only  know  the  inside  half,  and  it  is  doubtful 
whether  any  human  being  in  varying  moods  can  describe  even 
that  accurately.  Moreover  the  little  shop  window  we  dress 
and  expose  to  view  is  by  no  means  all  that  others  see  of  us.  We 
may  be  very  self-conscious  about  things  which  others  hardly 
notice  and  throughout  our  lives  we  may  be  entirely  unaware  of 
some  glaring  peculiarity  which  continually  strikes  our  neighbours. 
A  pelican  is  not  the  least  self-conscious  about  the  size  of  his  beak. 
A  peacock  may  be  self-conscious  about  his  tail,  but  he  thinks  too 
that  he  has  a  beautiful  voice.  On  the  other  hand,  outsiders  may 
believe  that  some  person  is  quite  oblivious  of  certain  failings  till 


DIARY   WRITING  11 

it  is  discovered  by  his  diary  that  he  has  been  struggHng  with  them 
all  along. 

We  have  said  that  the  honesty  and  sincerity  of  indiscreet  and  Self- 
unreticent  writers  are  beyond  question.  This  perhaps  requires  '^®°®P''^°'^ 
some  qualification.  Self-deception  is  very  prevalent.  There  is  a 
good  deal  of  truth  in  Byron's  remark  in  his  diary,  "  I  fear  one 
lies  more  to  one's  self  than  to  anyone  else,"  or  as  Gladstone  puts 
it,  "  I  do  not  enter  on  interior  matters.  It  is  so  easy  to  write, 
but  to  write  honestly  nearly  impossible."  The  luxury  of  self- 
depreciation  or  self-justification  which  can  be  written  without 
fear  of  contradiction  or  criticism  from  outsiders  is  very  likely 
to  upset  anyone's  judgment.  Some  people  with  an  eye  on  pos- 
terity are  apt  to  make  themselves  out  worse  than  they  are  so 
that  by  self-disparagement  they  may  eventually  get  credit  for 
being  better  than  they  seemed. 

The  introspective  Diary,  however,  is  specially  interesting  as  it  Use  of 

often  discloses  unsuspected  features,  and  the  light  thrown  on  the  ^^'^^°- 

.,      ,  tj  •        n  •  1  •        •  TP^  n  spective 

writer  s  personality  commg  irom  withm  gives  a  different  and  new  diaries 

relief  to  the  tissue  of  his  character.  On  the  subject  of  these  more 
intimate  diaries  Henry  Fynes  Clinton,  who  kept  one,  makes 
the  following  observations  :  "I  am  not  sure  that  the  practice  is 
beneficial.  Many  evil  thoughts  that  would  pass  away  from  the 
anind  are  arrested  in  their  passage,  fixed  in  the  attention  and  made 
permanent  by  the  habit  of  noting  them  down.  Many  transient 
uneasinesses  too  are  magnified  in  importance  by  being  registered 
in  the  journal  and  a  morbid  sensibility  generated  ;  thus  we 
become  less  satisfied  with  our  condition  and  with  those  who 
surround  us.  Perhaps  then  it  is  safer  to  confine  a  journal  to  a 
mere  diary  of  fads,  but  carefully  to  abstain  from  setting  down 
opinions  upon  subjects  that  try  the  passions  deeply.  Let  the 
transient  thought  be  transient ;  let  us  forbear  to  give  it  a  habita- 
tion and  a  name,  form  and  substance,  in  our  minds." 

Some  diarists  express  a  similar  opinion,  while  others  agree  with 
J.  A.  Syraonds'  verdict,  "  ordinary  log  book  a  poor  affair."  As 
to  whether  the  practice  is  beneficial  to  the  writer  or  not  we 
need  express  no  opinion.  The  fact  remains  that  in  varying 
degrees  it  is  fairly  common  with  diary-writers  ;  and  readers  have 
no  reason  to  deplore  it.  A  long  subjective  diary  giving  as  it 
<ioes  the  history  of  a  personality  is  certainly  more  interesting  to 
read  than  a  long  objective  diary  giving  a  bare  record  of  facts. 

It  will  be  seen  that  there  is  a  very  wide  difference  between 
the  motives  of  the  two  extremes  :  the  impersonal  memorandum- 
writers    and    morbid    self-dissectors.     The    former   often    retain 


12  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

their  habit  over  a  number  of  years,  whereas  the  latter  generally 
cover  short  periods,  although  Heywood,  Windham,  Haydon, 
Fynes  Clinton,  and  Barbellion  are  exceptions.  There  are  diarists 
who  write  so  much  about  themselves  that  one  is  sometimes  sur- 
prised they  do  not  write  more.  It  seems  there  is  always  some 
limit;  either  reluctance  or  disinclination  may  prevent  them 
from  noting  their  most  poignant  personal  experiences.  More- 
over, even  regular  diarists  will  hesitate  to  write  down  a  passing 
impression  or  opinion  coloured  as  it  may  be  by  momentary  bias. 
They  have  sufficient  foresight  to  realise  that  after  reflection  their 
view  may  alter  and  their  considered  opinion  is  likely  to  be  quite 
different,  but  that  owing  to  a  certain  inherent  inconsequence 
and  carelessness  in  diary-keeping,  the  hasty  opinion  may  remain 
uncorrected  and  conceivably  be  read.  Caution,  however,  is  not 
as  a  rule  a  diarist's  characteristic,  and  there  are  many  who  im- 
pulsively jot  down  the  passing  thought.  It  may  be  found  that 
a  diarist  sometimes  fails  to  note  some  preoccupation  until  events 
arise  which  force  it  to  the  front.  He  may  then  disclose  how  much 
the  circumstances  or  impressions  have  been  occupying  his 
thoughts. 
Non-  Xo  those  who  have  never  kept,  and  never  intend  to  keep,  any 

sort  of  diary — that  is  to  say,  the  majority  of  people — the  idea 
of  deliberately  sitting  down,  inscribing  on  paper  and  keeping 
a  record  of  passing  thoughts,  and  worse  still  of  private  senti- 
ments and  innermost  feelings,  is  absolutely  and  entirely  incom- 
prehensible. 

Here  we  come  to  the  very  clear  and  sharp  dividing  line  between 
diarists  and  those  whom  we  may  call  non-diarists.  The  interest- 
ing thing  about  it  is  that  outwardly  on  the  surface  there  is  no 
sort  of  indication  of  the  difference  between  the  two.  It  is  an 
interior  matter  of  psychology.  A  diarist  cannot  be  unfaihngly 
detected  by  his  appearance,  manner,  habit,  or  position,  although 
owing  to  certain  circumstances  some  may  be  suspected  of  keeping 
a  diary.  But  unless  the  fact  is  unconcealed  or  well  known,  no 
one  can  divide,  with  anything  like  accuracy,  even  his  intimate 
friends  into  those  who  keep  diaries  and  those  who  do  not. 

Some  attempt  is  being  made  here  to  explain  why  people  keep 
diaries,  and  it  must  be  simply  the  entire  absence  of  any  of  the 
motives,  incentives,  and  peculiarities  of  disposition  enumerated, 
which  gives  us  the  negative  explanation  of  why  people  do  not 
keep  diaries, 
entries  in  before  dealing  with  the  subjects  which  occur  in  diaries,  it  should 
diaries      be  noted  that  every  diarist  has  to  exercise  a  certain  discretion 


DIARY  WRITING  13 

and  to  go  through  a  process  of  sifting  and  selection.  It  is  mani- 
festly impossible  to  record  everything,  although  at  least  one  pathetic 
attempt  has  been  made  to  do  the  impossible.  The  chronicling  of 
every  thought,  word  and  deed  from  morning  to  night  would  be 
too  great  a  tax  on  the  memory  and  would  occupy  too  much  time 
and  space.  The  diarist  therefore  chooses  the  incidents  which  at 
the  moment  he  thinks  matter — ^the  governing  facts  of  the  day. 
The  single  sentence  or  even  a  single  word  entries  of  regular 
diarists,  except  those  which  consist  merely  of  a  note  of  a  birth, 
death,  dinner,  visit,  journey,  or  some  such  ordinary  occurrence, 
are  often  curiously  characteristic.  The  following  very  brief 
entries  extracted  from  diaries  may  be  given  as  examples  : 

Dr.  Dee — I  had  a  grudging  of  the  ague. 

Thomas  Marchant — We  had  a  dish  of  green  peas  for  dinner  to-day. 

Thobesby — This  day  as  yesterday  wholly  spent  in  study. 

Pepys — Looking  after  my  workmen,  whose  laziness  do  much  trouble  me. 

Heywood — I  had  gracious  meltings  of  the  heart  in  prayer.  God  helpt  me 
in  all  the  duties  of  the  day,  blessed  be  God. 

Beppy  Byrom — Smoothing  (i.e.  ironing). 

Gale — Having  taken  three  pills  I  went  to  Peerless  for  a  \d.  worth  of  warm 
ale. 

Wesley  (at  22) — Resolved  to  reflect  twice  a  day. 

Windham — Saw  a  tight  battle  at  the  corner  of  Russell  Street. 

Fynes  Clinton — Hodie  Augustinimi  "  De  civitate  Dei  !  " 

Dr.  Rutty — A  little  swinish  at  dinner. 

Elizabeth  Fry — A  much  better  day  though  many  faults. 

Ha  YD  ON — Nothing  but  horror  and  idleness  to  reflect  on  for  the  last  three 
weeks. 

Cajroline  Fox — Plenty  to  do,  and  plenty  to  love  and  plenty  to  pity.  No 
one  need  die  of  ennui. 

Baker — Prawns,  shrimps,  and  cockles. 

George  Eliot — Read  Theocritus  ;  meditated  on  characters  for  Middle- 
march. 

Col.  Ponsonby — Very  hot,  played  at  rackets,  on  guard  at  Bank. 

Rose — No  material  alteration  in  the  King's  health. 

Gladstone — Wrote  a  brief  abstract  of  the  intended  Bill ;    wood  cutting. 

CoBBETT — At  Burghclere,  one  half  the  time  writing  and  the  other  half 
hare-hunting. 

Lord  Colchester — I  carried  up  the  Population  BiU  to  the  Lords. 

Macaulay — ^Wrote  :    this  Glencoe  business  is  infernal. 

Lord  Malmesbury — Dinner  at  Zinzendorfi's,  first  assembly  at  Count 
Finckenstein's. 

Barbellion — The  immediate  future  horrifies  me. 

The  regular  diarist  at  his  accustomed  moment,  probably  the 
last  thing  at  night,  scribbles  down  the  incidents  of  the  day.  If 
the  day  appears  to  him  comparatively  uneventful  and  he  is  in 
no  mood  for  general  reflections,  or  if  he  is  hurried  or  tired,  he  will 
just  register  what  appears  to  him  the  most  salient  impression — 


14 


ENGLISH   DIARIES 


Subjects 
dealt 
with  in 
diaries 

Health 


The 
weather 


enough  for  him  to  recall  the  day  when  he  re-reads  the  entry,  if 
he  ever  does,  and  sufficient  to  prevent  a  break  in  the  continuity. 

The  subjects  dealt  with  in  diaries  may  reveal  motive  ;  the 
manner  of  their  treatment  discloses  the  diarist's  style  and  method. 
Topics  of  the  most  frequent  occurrence  may  be  considered  ser- 
iatim. 

The  regular  diarist  will  invariably  enlarge  on  the  state  of  his 
health.  Nothing  could  be  more  natural.  If  you  write  on  the 
day  even  a  bilious  attack  or  a  bad  cold  matters  considerably  and 
looms  large.  If  you  write  two  or  three  days  later  the  memory 
of  the  minor  ailments  has  vanished.  Operations  and  prolonged 
illness  will  be  noted  by  anyone  who  is  keeping  a  faithful  account 
of  his  days,  because  they  are  impediments  to  action  and  alter  the 
whole  routine  of  life.  Morbid  instances  can  be  found  of  people 
who  literally  watch  the  state  of  their  health,  and  the  fact  that 
they  suffer  no  doubt  gives  the  clue  to  their  morbidity.  John 
Baker  is  an  extreme  instance,  but  Dr.  Dee,  Pepys,  Rutty,  New- 
combe,  Bjrron,  George  Eliot,  J.  A.  Symonds,  Barbellion,  and  many 
others  give  a  good  many  particulars  with  regard  to  their  health. 
In  the  earlier  diaries  both  the  diseases  and  the  cures  are,  to  say 
the  least  of  them,  curious.  Timothy  Burrell  has  "  flatuleni 
spasms  "  from  eating  new  cheese  after  getting  his  feet  wet,  and 
Ashmole  hangs  three  spiders  round  his  neck,  which  cures  his  ague. 
But  in  the  later  diaries,  too,  health  remarks  are  very  common. 
Even  Greville,  in  what  is  almost  an  official  chronicle,  invariably 
notes  his  attacks  of  the  gout.  A  carefully-kept  analysis  of  symp- 
toms may  have  considerable  value  from  the  medical  point  of 
view. 

The  weather  comes  under  much  the  same  category  as  health. 
A  fine  day  or  a  rainy  day  affects  the  mood  of  the  sensitive 
daily  writer,  and  certain  temperaments  are  undoubtedly  very 
susceptible  to  the  cheering  influence  of  sunshine  and  the  depressing 
effects  of  an  overcast  sky.  That  it  rained  to-day  is  an  important 
matter  to-day,  as  it  may  have  entirely  altered  the  course  of 
our  pursuits.  Next  Tuesday  we  shall  not  remember  whether  it 
rained  or  not.  Daily  diarists  therefore  often  note  the  weather 
regularly.  Haydon's  father,  whose  diary  was  destroyed,  hardly 
made  an  entry  without  registering  the  state  of  the  wind.  In  naval 
diaries  of  course  the  weather  stands  out  as  a  special  feature.  Some 
periodic  diarists  note  storms,  hurricanes,  frost,  heat,  or  drought, 
more  especially  if  they  are  personally  affected  by  them.  Even 
in  very  scrappy  diaries  earthquakes,  comets,  and  floods  are 
described. 


DIARY  WRITING  15 

Food  figures  very  prominently  in  many  diaries.  A  good  dinner  Food 
is  noted  by  people  who  might  never  be  suspected  of  having  noticed 
the  food  at  all.  The  good  meal  leaves  a  deeper  impression  than 
might  be  supposed.  There  are  more  remarks  about  food  in 
regular  diaries  than  in  occasional  diaries.  Sometimes  it  is  elabor- 
ated into  a  special  feature  of  the  diary,  as,  for  instance,  Teonge's 
tremendous  dinners  and  Lady  Nugent's  Jamaica  banquets,  and 
we  have  an  instance  in  which  over-eating  is  a  special  vice  to  be 
corrected.  There  are  many  diaries,  however,  in  which  food  is 
never  mentioned  at  all. 

Drink  occurs  more  often  than  food.  The  immediate  effects  of  Drink 
excess  naturally  colour  the  outlook  of  the  daily  diary  writer.  In 
the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  drink  is  very  prominent 
as  drunkenness  was  very  common.  It  becomes  the  cause  of  the 
diarist's  hilarity  or  depression,  sometimes  of  his  illness,  and  in 
more  than  one  diary  resolutions  against  over-indulgence  are  con- 
scientiously noted.  Turner's  constant  and  it  is  to  be  feared 
fruitless  endeavours  to  overcome  his  excesses  occupy  a  large  part 
of  his  extraordinary  but  very  amusing  diary.  Mrs.  Browne's 
companions  on  board  ship  were  certainly  not  a  sober  company. 

In  the  earlier  diaries  we  get  more  domestic  details  than  in  the  Domestic 
later  ones,  where  original  manuscripts  are  not  at  our  disposal  and  ^®*^^^ 
where  the  editor's  blue  pencil  has  been  more  rigorously  used. 
The  relations  of  husband  and  ^vife  and  of  parents  and  children 
occur  in  the  fuller  and  more  intimate  diaries.  Pepys'  relations 
with  his  wife  are  almost  the  most  amusing  part  of  his  diary. 
Adam  Eyre  objects  to  his  wife  brawhng ;  Turner's  two  mves 
Peggy  and  Molly  are  realistically  represented  ;  Burrell  has  an 
affection  of  the  stomach  owing  to  his  irritation  with  his  sister; 
Baker's  devotion  to  "  Uxor  "  is  very  pathetic,  Egmont's  eulogy 
of  his  wife  comes  almost  as  a  surprise  in  his  voluminous  official 
diary.  Mary  Shelley's  brief  reference  to  the  death  of  her  child 
is  tragic. 

Servant  troubles  are  frequently  noted,  sometimes  by  writers  for 
whom  such  trivial  mundane  affairs  might  be  supposed  to  have  no 
sort  of  importance.  Dr.  Dee  says  his  wife  is  "  desperately  angry  " 
with  her  maids  ;  Shngsby  gives  elaborate  details  about  his  cook, 
his  gardener  and  other  servants  ;  the  learned  Ashmole  has  trouble 
with  his  man  Hobbs  ;  Timothy  Burrell  is  impatient  when  his 
servant  puts  too  much  salt  in  his  broth  ;  Adam  Eyre  whips  Jane  ; 
Newcombe  complains  of  "  the  villainous  carriage  "  of  his  servants, 
and  Ehzabeth  Fry  is  depressed  at  their  ingratitude.  Servants, 
indeed,  like  ill-health  and  the  weather,  can  upset  the  day's  routine. 


\ 


16  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

It  would  be  interesting  if  a  diary  could  reveal  their  side  of  the 
story.     But  so  far  a  domestic  servant's  diary  is  not  available. 

Besides  the  noting  of  family  and  domestic  affairs  there  are 
instances  of  diarists  who  register  the  most  trivial  details.     A  case 
is  known  of  a  man  who  wrote  down  the  number  of  cigarettes  he 
smoked  each  day. 
Religion        No  subject  occurs  more  frequently  than  religion  in  some  shape 
or  form.     Accounts  of  sermons,  theological  discussion,  the  reading 
of   religious    books,    philosophic    meditations,    self-examination, 
devotional  practices  and  private  prayer  may  be  found  in  abun- 
dance in  many  diaries.     Sermons  are  given  sometimes  very  fully. 
Manningham  reports  them  almost  verbatim.     Thanksgi\dng  and 
supplication  to  God,  whether  expressed  in  a  sentence  or  in  a  page, 
may  be  discovered  in  almost  any  regularly  kept  diary.     In  fact 
it  may  be  said  that  a  temperament  addicted  to  religious  medita- 
tion or  speculation  is  just  the  sort  of  temperament  that  produces 
a  diary.     As  Ehzabeth  Fry  puts  it,  "  that  is  the  advantage  of 
a  true  journal,  it  leads  the  mind  to  look  inwards."     In  the  seven- 
teenth century  and  later  the  keeping  of  a  register  of  facts  and 
feelings  was  regarded  as  part  of  the  rehgious  exercise  of  pious 
people.     The  seventeenth-century  diaries  given  here  consist  very 
largely  of  those  of  divines.     But  apart  from  these,  declarations 
of  faith  in  supernatural  intervention  and  expressions  of  humility 
or    of    gratitude   to   the   Deity   find   their   way   into   the   great 
majority  of   private  diaries,   no  matter  what  the   profession   or 
character   of  the   diarist  may   be.     In  some   diaries   which  con- 
tain a  great  deal  of  religious  matter,  a  sanctimonious,  not  to  say 
self-righteous,  touch  may  occasionally  be  detected,  and  the  common 
tendency  of  mistaking  dependence  on  a  supernatural  power  for 
spiritual  excellence.     These  diarists  do  not  show  any  real  per- 
spicacity in  self-knowledge  or  self-analysis  because  they  generally 
take  refuge  in  writing  down  more  or  less  conventional  religious 
formula?  of  self-disparagement.     There  may  also  be  found  in  some 
cases  a  scarcely-concealed  conviction  that  the  prayer  and  moralis- 
ing will  at  some  future  date  be  edifying  reading  for  others.     Un- 
doubtedly a  certain  natural  relief  results  to  the  diarist  from  written 
expressions  of  repentance  and  self-administered  homihes,  as  when 
Henry  Newcombe  has  "  a  deale  of  sweet  discourse  "  about  the 
"  baseness  "  of  his  heart,  "  rivers  of  tears  "  issue  from  Thoresby's 
eyes,  and  Henry  Martyn  loathes  himself  for  his  "  secret  abomina- 
tions."    We,  as  readers,  in  perusing  such  diaries  find  that  our 
glance  wanders  perhaps  rather  maliciously  over  the  page  in  search 
of  the  lapses  rather  than  of  the  conquests.     There  is  colour  in 


DIARY  WRITING  17 

faults,  but  not  always  in  righteousness.  The  truth  is  that  self- 
disparagement  in  excess,  even  when  practised  privately,  is  a  form 
of  self-indulgence  and  does  not  ring  quite  true.  Both  the  exultant 
righteousness  and  the  exaggerated  self-abasement  in  some  rehgious 
diaries  are  not  convincing ;  and  insincerity  is  a  fatal  fault  in  a 
diary.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  a  really  pathetic  and  even  tragic 
note  may  be  found  in  some  expressions  of  regret,  self-blame  and 
despair,  even  though  they  be  expressed  in  a  single  sentence. 

Many  people  take  the  opportunity  of  excursions  or  travel  to  Scenery 
write  very  full  descriptions  of  the  sights  they  see.     Lakes  and  ^"^ 
mountains,  cathedrals  and  monuments,  inspire  travellers  with  a  *^^^^^ 
desire  to  write.     But  it  must  be  frankly  confessed  that  unless  the 
writer  is  endowed  with  considerable  literary  talent  this  section 
of  their  diary  is  likely  to  prove  extremely  dull.     Nothing  indeed 
shows  up  a  writer's  hterary  incapacity  more  than  his  attempts 
to  expatiate  on  the  wonders  of  nature  and  art ;    and  his  or  her 
(for  women  are  more  especially  fond  of  this  form  of  writing)  un- 
restrained  enthusiasm   in   no   way   makes   these   passages   more 
tolerable.     Only  a  few  instances  will  be  found  of  diarists  who 
succeed  in  this  line.     Even  in  biographies  the  chapters  on  travel 
are  seldom  readable.     Surveyors'  topographical  records  of  their 
journeys  such  as  the  Itinerary  of  John  Leland  in  the  sixteenth 
century  cannot  be  classed  as  diaries. 

When  a  diarist  meets  a  celebrity  he  wiU  unfailingly  make  a  note  Royalties, 
of  it.     When  anyone  constantly  meets  celebrities  it  becomes  a  celebrities 
reason  for  keeping  a  diary.     It  certainly  must  have  been  the  main  septal  life 
motive  in  the  case  of  Crabb  Robinson.     Contact  with  sovereigns 
and  royalties  frequently  produces  diary  writing.     Quite  a  con- 
siderable number  of  diaries  deal  with  the  sayings,  doings,  habits 
and   appearance  of  roj^alty.     For  instance,  the  sections  of  her 
diary  noted  by  Emma  Sophia  Lady  Brownlow  in  her  Reminiscences 
of  a  Septuagenarian  (1867),  which  is  not  included  in  the  collection, 
deal  exclusively  with  minor  royalties  in  Holland.     Of  course  this 
sort  of  thing  may  be  well  done  or  badly  done.     Occasionally  we 
get  a  vivid  and  intimate  sidelight  such  as  Dee's  and  Manningham's 
references  to  Queen  Elizabeth;    Pepj^s  on  Charles   II;    Lake's 
account  of  the  marriage  of  Wilham  and  Mary,  on  which  occasion 
Charles  II  behaved  in  a  highly  characteristic  way ;   Bubb  Doding- 
ton's  intercourse  with  Frederick  Prince  of   Wales  and  his  wife, 
and  Egmont's  character  sketch  of  that  Prince  ;   Fanny  Burney's 
conversations  with  George  III  and  Queen  Charlotte ;    Lady  Char- 
lotte  Bury's   striking   portrait   of   Queen    Caroline;     and   Lady 
Malcolm's  description  of  Napoleon.     George  IV's   "  undignified 
2 


18  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

practices,  at  which,"  Greville  tells  us,  "  grave  men  were  shocked," 
form  the  subject-matter  of  many  diaries.  George  calling  for 
brandy  when  he  first  meets  Carohne  of  Brunswick  was  an  astonish- 
ing scene  of  which  Lord  Malmesbury  was  the  sole  witness. 

But  often  we  may  get  just  the  bald  mention  of  the  presence  of 
royalty,  or  a  list  of  names  of  eminent  people  seen  or  met.  In  any 
case  the  vision  of  or  casual  intercourse  with  kings,  queens, 
princes,  dukes,  ministers,  poets,  authors,  painters,  and  actresses 
prompts  a  diarist  to  go  home  and  write  it  all  down.  He  feels  he 
is  contributing  to  history.  It  is  certainly  true  and  after  all  quite 
natural  that  every  diarist  who  came  within  eyeshot  or  earshot  of 
Dr.  Johnson  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington  at  once  made  a  special 
note  of  it. 

Accounts  of  balls,  dinner-parties,  country-house  parties,  cere- 
monies, pageants,  and  social  functions  of  every  description  occur 
in  a  multitude  of  diaries.  In  fact  some  diaries  may  be  found  to  be 
composed  of  very  little  else.  It  requires  an  exceptionally  skilful 
pen  to  make  anything  of  this  kind  interesting  or  amusing,  especially 
if  it  is  of  fairly  recent  date.  From  the  class  of  mind  that  thinks 
it  worth  while  to  register  notliing  but  bald,  social  notes  it  is  useless 
to  expect  any  gleams  of  perception  or  indeed  anything  of  interest. 
Celebrities  seem  often  to  be  mentioned,  not  because  the  writers 
want  to  draw  a  portrait  of  them,  but  because  they  want  to  in- 
crease their  own  importance  by  showing  they  were  on  intimate 
terms  or  even  acquainted  with  the  great.  Indeed  keepers  of 
social  diaries  are  apt  to  give  rather  a  false  idea  of  their  own 
importance.  A  reader  gets  the  impression  that  they  only  dine 
with  authors  and  great  statesmen  and  consort  with  notables. 
They  seem  to  echo  the  author  of  Vanity  Fair  in  saying,  "  I  declare 
I  swell  with  pride  as  these  august  names  are  transcribed  by  my 
pen."  Unless  an  eye  is  kept  on  the  dates  the  dull  days  that  are 
omitted  are  not  noticed.  We  very  seldom  get  "  dined  with  Mrs. 
Jones  "  or  a  character  sketch  of  John  Smith,  and  it  must  be 
acknowleged  that  the  unceasing  presence  of  the  great  is  very 
fatiguing.  In  the  more  genuine  full  diary,  minor  matters  are 
just  as  carefully  noted,  as  for  instance  when  Egmont  writes, 
"  This  day  old  Mrs.  Minshull  and  Mr.  Javaegam  dined  with  us." 
It  is  in  the  category  of  Social  Diaries  that  more  might  probably 
be  found  than  are  included  in  this  collection.  Miss  Mary  Bagot's 
early  nineteenth-century  diaries  quoted  in  Links  with  the  Past, 
by  Mrs.  Charles  Bagot  (1901),  have  not  been  included,  as  there 
would  seem  to  be  a  sufficient  number  of  examples  of  social  diaries 
in  that  period.     Playgoing  is  a  very  favourite  topic  with  some 


DIARY  WRITING  19 

diarists,    notably    Pepys,    Windham,    Crabb     Robinson,    Henry 
Greyille,  and  concerts  and  opera  are  often  described. 

Lists  of  books  read  or  purchased  and  comments  and  opinions  Books 
on  books  are  of  common  occurrence.  We  get  an  insight  into  the 
diarist's  tastes,  but  searching  criticism,  even  where  there  is  hterary 
appreciation,  is  rare.  Fynes  Chnton  gives  a  curiously  elaborate 
analysis  of  the  books  he  studies,  and  of  course  books  figure  promin- 
ently in  Macaulay's  Diary  and  Mary  Shelley's.  There  is  one  case 
of  a  soldier's  diary  (Sir  Gerald  Graham)  in  which  the  books  he 
is  reading  are  the  only  subject  he  mentions  outside  his  strictly 
professional  military  pursuits.  Thomas  Green's  diary  is  excep- 
tional, being  almost  entirely  confined  to  literary  criticism. 

Lists  of  deaths,  births,  and   marriages   are   common.     A  few  Records 
diaries  are  exclusively  occupied  with  them.     John  Hobson  shows  and 
a  morbid  love  of  recording  deaths.     Accounts  of  expenditure  are  ^''^'^"^^s 
often  noted  in  diaries,  or  anyhow  the  mention  of  prices.     Giles 
Moore  writes   almost  exclusively  in  the  language   of  accounts, 
and  Stapley  notes  punctihously  the  exact  spot  where  payments 
were  made.     How  personal  character  as  well  as  information  as 
to   prices   can  appear   in   a   list    of  payments,    is   illustrated   in 
the  page  of  accounts  kept  by  one  of  the  Ladies  of  LlangoDen. 
A  good  many  old  account  books  are  available  which  cannot  be 
reckoned  as  diaries,  although  by  their  weekly  and  sometimes  daily 
entries  they  come  very  near  to  some  of  the  brief  diary  memoranda. 
Mention  may  be  made  here  of  two  of  these. 

There  are  the  household  books  of  the  3rd  and  4th  Earls  of 
Derby  kept  between  1561  and  1589.1     The  writer  of  the  first  one 
is  unknown.     William  Harington,  the  steward  or  secretary,  kept 
the  later  one.     These  books  give  the  most  exact  and  minute 
account  of  everything  connected  with  their  Lordship's  household. 
They  contain  biUs  for  aU  provisions,  food  and  wine,  biUs  of  fare, 
Items  of  wages  paid,  long  lists  of  servants  with  orders  and  regu- 
lations for  the  household ;    also  a  carefully  kept  daily  record  of 
all  guests  who  came  to  stay  or  who  dined,  and  sometimes  the  name 
of  the  preacher.     They  give  in  fact  a  complete  picture  of  a  large 
Ehzabethan  establishment,  and  incidentally  much  information  with 
regard  to  prices. 

The  other  instance  is  the  household  account  book  of  Sarah 
Fell  of  Swarthmore  Hall,  2  kept  between  1673  and  1678,  which  is 
strictly  an  account  book  and  not  a  diary.     In  it  we  see  not  only 

1  Chetham  Society:    Stanley  Papers. 

»  Household  Accounts  of  Sarah  Fell  of  Swarthmore  Hall,  ed.  by  Norman 
Penney,  1920. 


20  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

the  liberal  provision  that  was  made  for  the  household,  but  we  can 
note  prices,  wages  and  taxes,  and  various  entries  give  us  a  ghmpse 
into  the  fortunes  of  the  family.  There  is  a  note  of  her  gomg  to 
prison  in  1676.  The  tobacco  that  is  bought  is  used  for  washing 
sheep  as  well  as  for  smoking,  "  tobacco  pipes  "  are  purchased  for 
Sister  Susannah,  but  we  can  hardly  beheve  she  used  them  her- 
self. References  to  dress  show  that  a  "  muffe  "  was  bought  for 
Sarah  a  "  black  allamonde  rounde  whiske  "  for  Sister  Rachel, 
"  a  little  pocket  looking-glass  "  for  Susannah,  and  "  a  vizard  maske 
for  myselfe  Is.  4d."  We  also  find  an  echo  of  the  inevitable  ser- 
vant trouble,  "  Ann  Standish's  wages  for  the  year  is  £1  I7s.  6d.,^ 
but  she  paid  8*.  for  a  silver  spoon  lost  and  6d.  for  a  pot  broken. 
In  fact,  an  analysis  of  these  carefully  kept  accounts  yields  a  good 

deal  of  history.  u-  u  u 

Another  business  register  and  record  of  payments  which  has 
not  been  included  in  this  collection  is  PhiUp  Henslowe  s  so-called 
Diary      It  consists  of  memoranda  of  receipts  and  payment  con- 
nected with  the  plays  produced  between  1592  and  1603  m  the 
theatres  of  which  he  was  proprietor.     While  it  contains  much 
valuable  information  from  the  point  of  view  of  literary  archaeology, 
it  cannot  by  any  stretch  of  the  definition  be  classed  as  a  diary. 
There  is  a  business  record  of  the  same  description  by  Thomas 
Osborne,  Duke  of  Leeds,  kept  between  1705  and  1712.     The  dated 
entries  are  not  daily  but  very  frequent.     They  are  written  on  long 
narrow  sheets  in  a  rough  but  clear  handwriting,  and  concern  his 
property,  his  will,  the  transfer  of  stock,  mortgages,  deaths,  tamily 
iUnesses  and  dates  of  parUamentary  events.     Only  once  does  he 
express  anything  like  an  opinion  in  an  indignant  reference  to  ttie 

Act  of  Toleration.  „r    ..u-   ™4. 

No  special  mention  is  made  of  the  diary  of  John  Worthmgton 
who  was  master  of  Jesus  College,  Cambridge,  in  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  It  is  nothing  more  than  an  enlarged  engage- 
ment book,  although  he  puts  in  a  few  notices  about  his  health. 
Dowsing's  journal,  though  it  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  a  private 
diary,  has  been  included  owing  to  the  unique  character  o±  his 

aothes  One  might  think  that  as  food  and  drink  are  so  often  referred 
to,  clothes  would  be  also,  but  this  is  not  the  case.  Pepys  very 
elaborate  description  of  his  own  costume  and  his  wife  s  stands 
more  or  less  alone.  There  are  casual  references  like  Giles  Moore  s 
scarlet  waistcoats,  etc.,  the  stockings  Burrell  purchases  for  his 
daughter  ;  and  the  Ladies  of  Llangollen's  riding  habits  Queen 
Victoria  discusses  her  clothes  with  Lord  Melbourne,  and  lanny 


DIARY   WRITING  21 

Burney  talks  of  Queen  Charlotte's  clothes,  if  not  her  own.     But 
even  daily  diarists  seldom  dwell  on  the  subject. 

Thrilling  adventures,  hairbreadth  escapes  (Thoresby's  danger-  Accidents 
ous  ride,  Evelyn's  adventure  with  the  cut-throats,  Crabb  Robin- 
son's encounter  with  a  thief  in  the  Strand,  Carohne  Fox's  escape 
from  a  bull),  fires,  floods,  etc.,  are  related  even  in  meagre  diaries. 
The  immediate  vivid  recollection  of  the  event  written  down  per- 
haps while  the  diarist  is  still  affected  by  the  experience  sometimes 
give  the  descriptions  a  striking  reahsm  even  with  diarists  whose 
powers  of  expression  appear  normally  rather  restricted. 

Notable  public  events,    a  king's  death,  the  outbreak  of  war,  Public, 
civil  commotion,  a  murder  or  a  trial  are  noted  by  many  diarists  Political 
even  though  they  may  be  far  removed  from  the  scene.     Refer-  social 
^^nCes  to  political  and  public  affairs  in  the  diary  of  some  obscure  events 
person  in  the  provinces,  although  they  may  be  just  perfunctory 
statements,  help  to  hnk  him  to  the  centre  of  national  hfe  and 
remind  one  of  the  historical  period  in  which  he  lived.     Of  course 
there  are  full  diary  records  of  such  events  wliich,  hke  Egmont's 
or  Greville's,  become   the   foundation   material   for   history,   the 
author   having   had   exceptional    opportunities    for  observation. 
Admiral  Cockburn's  diary  of  the  voyage  to  St.  Helena  is  an  instance 
of  a  short  one.     Labouchere's  Diary  of  a  Besieged  Resident  in 
Paris  in  1871,  though  written  daily,  is  not  a  diary,  but  articles  for 
a  newspaper.     They  were  reprinted  from  the  Daily  News.     The 
social   political   diaries   hke  Henry   Greville's   and   Raikes'   deal 
largely  with  pubhc  events,  and  there  are  two  diaries  of  Speakers 
which  are  reserved  principally  for  parliamentary  business. 

A  good  many  diaries  are  confined  exclusively  to  the  recital  of 
pubhc  events,  whether  national  or  local,  without  any  personal 
colour  at  all.  Instances  are  given,  but  it  is  not  worth  while  to 
examine  them  all.  Nicholas  Brown's  diary  pubhshed  in  the  Sur- 
tees  Society's  collection,  although  it  covers  a  long  period  (1767  to 
1796),  is  devoid  of  any  but  local  interest.  The  diary  of  Walter 
Younger  (1604-1628),  M.P.  for  Honiton,  except  for  notes  on  the 
weather  and  the  crops,  is  simply  a  register  of  pubhc  affairs. 

If  a  census  of  diary  keepers  could  be  made  it  would  probably  War 
be  found  that  divines  and  soldiers  headed  the  hst.  Many  a  man 
in  war  time  will  keep  a  diary  though  he  has  never  done  so  before 
and  does  not  do  so  again.  War  is  of  such  crucial  importance 
while  it  lasts  and  so  filled  with  exciting  and  nerve-racking  experi- 
ences that  a  participant  very  naturally  wants  to  make  some 
immediate  record  of  it,  however  brief.  Unfortunately  it  is  a  case 
in  which  the  events  to  be  recorded  are  too  vast  for  any  recorder. 


22  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

The  individuality  of  the  writer  often,  though  not  always,  becomes 
submerged,  and  in  any  event  he  is  confined  to  noting  the  particular 
incidents  in  his  particular  corner.  While  the  sum  total  of  such 
experiences  becomes  of  great  value  to  the  military  historian,  they 
are  in  themselves,  except  for  hairbreadth  escapes  and  dangerous 
adventures,  seldom  worthy  of  special  notice.  There  is  a  sameness 
about  military  movements,  preparations,  tactics  and  organisation 
which  no  pen  can  relieve.  In  the  rare  cases  where  a  writer 
describes  his  own  sensations,  or  can  give  a  really  graphic  picture 
of  scenes  and  incidents,  we  get  a  welcome  personal  note  and  the 
individuality  of  the  diarist  emerges.  But  naturally  enough  the 
number  of  troops  he  has,  the  amount  of  ammunition,  the  pro- 
spects of  reinforcements,  the  reported  movements  of  the  enemy 
and  the  state  of  the  weather  are  of  overmastering  importance  on 
the  day  he  writes.  But  that  importance  fades  quickly.  The 
consequence  is  that  military  diaries  (many  more  of  which  might 
be  cited  than  are  mentioned  in  this  collection)  are  on  the  whole 
not  among  the  most  interesting.  General  Gordon's  Khartoum 
diary  is  a  notable  exception. 

But  in  British  soldiers'  diaries  there  is  a  special  characteristic 
which  would  not  be  found  in  the  diaries  of  soldiers  of  other  nations. 
They  write  with  extreme  reticence  about  dangers  and  horrors, 
and  they  never  betray  themselves  by  any  display  of  emotion. 
Even  important  engagements  are  very  baldly  described.  Typical 
diaries  of  this  description  are  referred  to  in  the  reviews.  An 
instance  may  be  quoted  here  of  an  officer  in  the  South  African 
War,  who  was  present  at  the  battles  of  Modder  River  and  Magers- 
fontein.  In  his  diary  entry  he  describes  a  day's  fishing,  going 
into  detail  as  to  the  flies  he  used  and  the  sort  of  rod  and  gut 
suitable  for  South  African  rivers.  He  notes  that  he  wants  a  pony 
for  coursing  hares  and  thinks  he  will  find  a  suitable  one  at  a  Dutch 
farmer's.     Then  he  adds :  "  We  have  had  two  big  battles." 

But  in  many  soldiers'  diaries  during  the  war  will  be  found 
the  recurrence  of  the  three  same  moods  :  eagerness  to  be  in  action, 
impatience  at  the  delays  and  periods  of  waiting,  followed  by  a 
longing  for  the  end. 
Sport  and  Diarists  pretty  frequently  mention  their  hunting,  fishing  and 
games  shooting  exploits,  and  cricket  matches  are  described.  But  there 
are  diaries  kept  exclusively  for  a  record  of  sport.  The  second  Earl 
of  Malmesbury,  for  instance,  kept  a  journal  of  his  sporting  life 
(1801-1840)  in  which  he  entered  the  quantity  of  powder  and  shot 
he  used,  the  game  he  killed  each  day,  the  time  he  was  out,  the 
distance  he  walked,  and  the  weather.     Hunting  diaries  are  very 


DIARY  WRITING  23 

common.     In  the  history  of  any  Hunt  will  be  found  extracts  from 
a  number  of  hunting  diaries.     In  addition  to  William  Goodall's 
diary  which  is  reviewed,  we  may  mention  H.  B.  Yerburgh's  Leaves 
from  a  Hunting  Diary  in  Essex ;  Edwin  Stevens's,  the  huntsman 
of  the  Warwickshire  Hunt,  whose  regular  entries  cover  a  number 
of  years  in  the  'forties ;  Lord  Willoughby  de  Broke's  diary,  and  Sir 
Charles  Mordaunt's,  with  their  long,  regular  and  elaborate  entries 
deahng  with  runs  with  the  hounds.     There  may  be  mentioned, 
too,  the  diary  of  the  Rev.  W.  S.  Millar  in  the  eighteen  sixties, 
who  shows  a  very  keen  enjoyment  of  the  sport  and  is  thoroughly 
pleased  with  his  own  exploits.     "  Rode  the  Squire,  who  carried  me 
splendidly,  jumping  South  Newington  brook  in  capital  style  " — 
"  the  most  satisfactory  kill  I  have  seen  this  season,"  etc.     This 
diary  of  a  sporting  parson  forms  an  amusing  contrast  to  the  many 
diaries  of  his  fellow-divines  which  are  mentioned  here,  occupied 
largely   as   they   are   with   prayer   and   self-condemnation.     The 
Extracts  from  the  Diary  of  a  Huntsman,  by  Thomas  Smith,  is 
not  a  diary,  but  descriptions  of  runs  and  hunting  adventures,  with 
advice  about  keeping  hounds.     Some  of  the  many  hunting  diaries 
are  literally  voluminous,  others  just  brief  notes,  but  all  are  totally 
devoid  of  any  remarks  not  concerned  with  the  actual  sport  itself. 
They  are,  however,  real  diaries  written  probably  on  the  very  even- 
ing of  the  events  recorded.     When  H.  B.  Yerburgh  writes,  "  Let 
me  jot  it  down  this  Monday  evening  while  memory  runs  hot 
within  me  and  ere  its  colour  fades  away,"  he  is  exercising  the 
method  of  a  true  diarist.     The  curious  thing  is  that  these  diaries, 
not  only  in  the  similarity  of  their  style,  but  in  the  extremely 
limited  range  of  the  subject — the  line  of  country,  the  fox's  course, 
the  conduct  of  the  hounds  and  of  the  horses,  accounts  of  accidents, 
and  sometimes  a  list  of  people  present — are  practically  unread- 
able even  for  other  hunting  men.     The  keen  enjoyment  produces 
an  "  itch  to  record,"  and  these  sportsmen  write  for  themselves 
in  their  old  age  so  that  in  the  evening  of  life  they  can  be  reminded 
of  these  great    moments  and    enjoy  once  more   in   imagination 
the  famous  runs. 

Apart  from  soldiers,  sailors  and  explorers,  it  is  curious  how  often  Profes- 
diaries  avoid  any  but  the  briefest  mention  of  the  professional  work  ^^j.^ 
of  the  author.  It  would  seem  as  if  he  turned  away  from  his  daily 
professional  duties  deliberately  in  order  to  expand  the  more  private 
side  of  his  nature  in  his  diary.  But  there  are  many  too  who  note 
the  progress  and  development  of  their  professional  work  and  are 
obviously  absorbed  in  it,  like  Gladstone,  for  instance,  who  notes 
little  else. 


24 


ENGLISH   DIARIES 


Anec- 
dotes and 
quota- 
tions 


Gossip 

and 

scandal 


Diaries 
not 

written 
for  pub- 
lication 


While  a  good  anecdote,  a  joke  or  a  verse  may  be  inserted  in 
many  diaries,  there  are  some  which  seem  to  be  solely  kept  for 
collecting  and  storing  such  material.  Manningham  wdth  his  anec- 
dotes, and  John  Rous  with  his  satirical  poems,  are  instances  of 
diaries  which  come  very  near  to  being  commonplace  books,  but 
they  contain  other  material  as  well.  Miss  Frances  Wynne's  ten 
volumes,  selections  from  which  were  published  in  1864  under  the 
title  of  Diaries  of  a  Lady  of  Quality,  are  not,  as  the  editor  remarks, 
what  is  commonly  understood  or  described  by  the  name  of  diary, 
but  a  store  of  extracts  from  other  people's  letters  and  reminiscences 
of  striking  events.  They  are  not  included  in  this  collection, 
although  reference  is  made  to  Sir  M.  Grant  Duff's  large  assortment 
of  anecdotes  which  were  produced  in  diary  form. 

There  are  a  fair  number  of  collectors  of  gossip  and  scandal 
either  in  the  form  of  anecdote,  rumour  or  revelation.  They  seem 
confident  that  their  notes  will  be  interesting  and  important  in  the 
future,  perhaps  after  they  are  dead,  although  some  are  tempted 
to  let  it  all  out  before  they  die.  But  contrary  to  their  belief  a 
collection  of  on  dits — "  so-and-so  told  me  privately,"  "  I  could 
hardly  believe  it,  but  .  .  .,"  "I  actually  heard  to-day  that  ..." 
— ^makes  the  dreariest  possible  reading — more  especially  when  they 
are  stale  and  a  little  tarnished  from  the  passage  of  time.  Their 
only  interest  lies  in  the  disclosure  they  give  of  the  type  of  mind 
of  the  writer.  However,  a  sudden  little  bit  of  unexpected  scandal, 
a  malicious  hint  or  a  sly  hit,  can  give  a  welcome  spark  and  flicker 
to  a  low-burning  flame. 

Many  regular  diarists  take  the  occasion  of  their  birthday  or  of 
the  end  of  the  year  to  make  a  sort  of  survey  of  their  lives,  review 
their  work  and  pursuits,  or  indulge  in  rehgious  or  philosophic 
reflections,  and  several  write  up  their  early  life  before  they  began 
diary  writing.  In  these  practices  we  can  see  clearly  the  self- 
regardant  nature  of  the  diarist. 

The  above  subjects  have  been  mentioned  as  being  common  to 
most  diaries.  But  each  diary  contains  something  individual,  and 
even  in  the  baldest  record  phrases  and  comments  will  occur  which 
disclose  to  the  reader  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  writer.  Diaries 
manifestly  not  written  for  publication,  while  their  literary  value 
may  often  be  negligible,  are  as  human  documents  of  peculiar 
interest.  Very  often  too  a  diary  is  all  that  exists  to  tell  us  the  story 
of  some  otherwise  quite  unknown  person.  There  is  a  fascination 
here  in  unearthing  the  unexplored  which  we  do  not  get  in  the  case 
of  prominent  people  about  whom  much  else  is  known  beyond  what 
is  contained  in  their  diaries.     A  very  poor  diary  may  be  printed 


p 


DIARY  WRITING  25 

if  its  author  becomes  famous,  while  a  very  much  better  diary  may 
never  see  the  hght  if  its  author  was  pubHcly  a  person  of  no 
particular  account. 

In  all  diaries  that  have  been  printed — and  the  great  majority 
of  those  collected  here  have  been — a  certain  amount  of  trimming 
has  taken  place.  Indiscretions,  intimacies,  or  indecencies,  have 
been  cut  out.  The  more  modern  they  are  the  more  this  has  been 
done.  No  one  can  be  expected  to  go  and  examine  the  original 
manuscripts  even  if  it  were  always  possible,  with  a  view  to  ferret- 
ing out  the  passages  omitted.  But  undoubtedly  something  has 
been  lost.  In  some  cases  a  slightly  different  impression  of  the 
diarist,  whether  better  or  worse,  might  be  given  by  a  perusal  of  the 
manuscript  intact.  Stars,  blanks,  initials  and  dashes  are  often 
very  annoying  and  tantalizing  to  the  reader. 

Various  devices  are  used  by  diarists  to  ensure  secrecy.     Many  Devices 

seem  to  fear  the  accidental  discovery  of  their  volume.     Cypher  *°  ^^^siire 
•    I-  c  •   1  •  1     1  n  ■     ■    secrecy 

IS  by  no  means  uncommon  tor  special  entries  and  the  use  of  it  is 

a  clear  proof  that  the  diarist  is  only  writing  for  himself.     Pepys 

wrote  his  diary  throughout  in  shorthand,  fearing  a  possible  reader. 

Byrom  did  the  same,  but  in  his  case  it  was  because  he  was  the 

inventor  of  a  system  of  shorthand.     Foreign  languages  are  also 

used  occasionally.     Baker  introduces  a  good  many  French,  Latin 

and  Italian  words  and  phrases,  Burrell  conceals  his  remarks  about 

his  family  and  his  diseases  in  Latin,  Dr.  Dee  and  Fynes  Clinton 

frequently  break  into  Latin,  and  Dugard's  whole  diary  is  written 

in  Latin.     Diarists  may  not  fear  posterity,  but  practically  all  of 

them  shrink  from  the  prying  eye  of  their  own  contemporaries. 

Only  a  few  diaries  here  mentioned  were  illustrated.  Burrell  nius- 
seems  to  have  used  little  sketches  as  figures  to  catch  his  eye  in  \^.^^^^ 
looking  back  over  his  accounts  ;  the  illustrations  of  the  child 
Mary  Browne  are  the  chief  features  of  her  diary  ;  General  Gordon, 
in  addition  to  maps  and  plans,  draws  one  or  two  amusing  carica- 
tures ;  some  drawings  from  her  sketch-books  are  inserted  in  Queen 
Victoria's  early  diary  and  in  the  Leaves  from  the  Highlands  she 
makes  a  few  sketches.  One  of  the  private  manuscript  diaries 
mentioned  contained  many  drawings  and  caricatures  by  the  author ; 
and  Hannington,  the  missionary,  illustrates  African  scenes. 

Dull  and  almost  colourless  records  are  common  enough,  even  in  Dull 
cases  where  the  diarist  has  had  specially  favourable  opportunities  diaries 
of  seeing  interesting  people  and  participating  in  notable  events. 
He  may  be  embarrassed  by  the  abundance  of  his  material,  he  may 
be  confused  as  to  what  to  select,  or  he  may  be  deficient  in  powers 
of  observation  and  description.     A  sentence  of  criticism  or  of 


26  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

frank  personal  opinion  may  convey  a  scene  or  present  a  personality 
better  than  pages  of  description.  In  a  diary  the  writer  counts 
much  more  than  the  subject.  A  prominent  London  man  of 
society  may  not  give  us  such  a  good  diary  as  an  obscure  provincial 
schoolmaster.  Indeed  it  may  be  said  that  the  nineteenth-century 
social  diaries  are  among  the  most  difficult  to  read.  But  in  the 
dullest  diary  it  is  well  to  be  on  the  look-out  for  sudden  indiscretions 
or  betrayals  of  feeling. 
Eccen.  Diarists  are  not  in  themselves  eccentric  any  more  than  those 

tncity  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^  j^ggp  diaries,  although  people  who  are  mentally  unbal- 
anced often  indulge  in  the  practice.  But  the  unexpected  and 
latent  eccentricity  which  exists  in  many  people  may  find  an  outlet 
in  diary  writing.  Even  the  most  apparently  conventional  people 
are  sometimes  given  to  strange  peculiarities  of  thought  and  habit. 
But  Dr.  Butty's  diary  has  a  degree  of  sustained  eccentricity 
which  is  unparalleled.  John  More  shows  signs  of  being  rather 
odd,  and  the  diary  of  the  Ladies  of  Llangollen  is  certainly  original. 
Old  Many  old  diaries  become  interesting  merely  on  account  of  their 

dianes  ^^^^  ^g  illustrations  of  manners  and  customs  which  have  dis- 
appeared, or  as  providing  archaeological  information  with  regard 
to  places  or  people.  We  can  appreciate  more  fully  through  diary 
reading  the  extraordinary  mortality  among  children  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  than  we  can  through  the  bare  recital  of  statistical 
facts.  We  can  also  gather  in  the  same  early  period  something  of 
the  astonishing  precocity  of  the  very  young.  There  are  remark- 
able instances  of  this  in  Evelyn's  diary  and  also  in  Shngsby's. 

Old  diaries,  by  their  references  to  habits  and  fashions  and  through 
the  amusement  derived  from  their  archaic  language  and  spelling, 
give  ordinary  commonplace  events  a  quality  they  would  not  other- 
wise possess.  A  scrappy  memorandum  of  the  pursuits  and  pur- 
chases of  a  country  gentleman  in  the  early  seventeenth  century 
is  entertaining,  whereas  the  equivalent  written  at  the  end  of  the 
nineteenth  century  would  be  unreadable.  The  latter,  however,  in 
three  hundred  years'  time  will  derive  in  its  turn  new  value  from 
its  age. 
Explorers  The  diaries  of  explorers  are  not  included  in  this  collection 
because  they  come  under  a  different  category  of  writing,  A  soldier 
may  or  may  not  keep  a  diary.  If  he  does,  even  though  he  deals 
with  little  else  than  military  matters,  it  is  the  "  itch  to  record  " 
which  impels  him  to  write.  However  technical  his  diary  may 
be,  nevertheless  it  is  a  diary  very  much  in  the  same  sense  as  any 
other  diary.  A  staff  diary  only  recording  official  military  matters 
would  not  be  a  diary  in  the  sense  we  are  using  it  here  any  more 


DIARY    WRITING  27 

than  the  log-book  of  a  ship.  An  explorer  only  uses  the  daily  entry 
as  a  convenient  means  of  giving  a  scientifically  exact  account  of 
the  enterprises  on  which  he  is  engaged.  It  is  the  recognised 
method  of  recording  scientific  observations  and  collecting  data  in 
research.  As  this  class  of  diary  is  not  included  for  review,  a  word 
may  be  said  about  them  here  because,  however  scrupulously 
specialised  the  entries  may  be,  the  personality  of  the  writer  still 
emerges.  Three  diaries  of  this  description  may  be  mentioned  as 
typical  of  this  class  of  record :  Captain  Cook's,  Darwin's,  and 
Captain  Scott's. 

There  are  two  published  diaries  of  Captain  Cook's.  They  are  Captain 
a  good  deal  more  than  ship's  log-books.  The  first  concerns  his  °° 
first  voyage  round  the  world  between  1768  and  1771,  and  the 
second  his  last  voyage  in  1776  up  to  his  death  in  1779.  While 
the  entries  consist  for  the  most  part  of  nautical  observations,  he 
gives  very  full  descriptions  of  places  and  interesting  details  with 
regard  to  native  races.  It  is  no  ordinary  dull  recital  of  fact.  One 
feels  behind  the  carefully  collected  observations  an  outstanding 
personality,  a  man  of  humane  instincts,  fine  judgment,  and 
skilful  management.  Very  occasionally  he  allows  himself  an 
expression  of  opinion  like  the  following  : 

Such  are  the  tempers  and  disposition  of  seamen  in  general  that  whatever 
you  give  them  out  of  the  common  way — altho'  it  be  ever  so  much  for  their 
good — it  will  not  go  down  and  you  will  hear  nothing  but  murmurings  against 
the  man  who  first  invented  it ;  but  the  moment  they  see  their  superiors  set 
a  value  upon  it,  it  becomes  the  finest  stuff  in  the  world  and  the  inventor  an 
honest  feUow.     Wind  easterly. 

But  the  long  and  often  elaborate  notes  of  the  great  navigator's 
explorations  are  part  of  the  literature  of  scientific  research,  not 
a  personal  diary. 

Darwin's  Journal  of  Researches  during  the  voyage  of  the  Darwin 
Beagle  is  another  instance  of  a  record  of  scientific  research  in 
diary  form.  But  it  is  no  dry  technical  treatise.  By  writing 
quite  naturally  without  omitting  the  enthusiasms  of  a  young  man 
filled  with  wonder,  devoured  by  curiosity  and  absorbed  in  the 
work  of  investigation,  he  produced  a  book  which  brought  within 
the  range  of  the  layman  the  researches  of  a  scientific  expert,  and 
thus  what  might  have  been  a  dry  and  difficult  dissertation  be- 
comes coloured  with  the  spirit  of  adventure  and  invested  with 
the  charm  of  personality.  The  Journal  covers  almost  five  years, 
1831  to  1836,  and  many  quotations  might  be  given  to  show  that 
not  only  could  he  write  and  describe,  but  that  he  combined  the 
aesthetic  sensibilities  of  an  artist  with  the  curiosity  and  analytical 


28 


ENGLISH   DIARIES 


concentration  of  a  man  of  science.  The  marvels  of  the  forests  of 
South  America  evoke  from  him  unrestrained  enthusiasm.  He  says 
in  one  place  :  "  It  is  not  possible  to  give  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
higher  feelings  of  wonder,  astonishment  and  devotion  which  fill 
and  elevate  the  mind."  The  most  unscientific  reader  may  be 
carried  away  by  perusing  his  accounts  of  adventures  with  native 
tribes,  and  even  when  he  particularises  and  elaborates  his  de- 
scriptions of  fauna  and  flora  he  uses  the  simplest  language.  How- 
ever, it  cannot  be  called  a  personal  diary,  as  he  notes  nothing 
about  himself  or  his  relations  with  his  comrades. 

Captain  Scott's  diary  of  the  Antarctic  Expedition,  1910-1912, 
has  attracted  more  than  scientific  interest  owing  to  the  tragic 
termination  of  the  expedition  so  far  as  he  and  some  of  his  com- 
panions were  concerned.  Although  his  journal  gives  all  the 
detailed  observations  necessary  to  illustrate  the  object  of  the 
expedition,  it  is  often  written  in  natural  and  almost  colloquial 
language.  The  last  entry,  now  famous,  is  not  only  personal  but 
of  so  poignantly  a  dramatic  character  that  it  may  be  quoted.  It 
is  one  of  the  few  diary  entries  written  by  a  man  in  the  immediate 
face  of  death.  It  will  be  remembered  that  he  and  his  comrades, 
though  only  eleven  miles  from  the  depot,  were  unable  to  leave 
their  hut  owing  to  the  continuous  "  whirhng  drifts  "  of  snow. 
He  scribbled  while  he  still  had  the  strength,  no  prayers  and 
supplications,  no  self-blame  or  recrimination,  no  posturing 
philosophy,  no  melodramatic  finale,  but  the  following  simple 
words : 


I  do  not  think  we  can  hope  for  any  better  things  now.  We  shall  stick  it 
out  to  the  end,  but  we  are  getting  weaker  of  com-se,  and  the  end  cannot  be 
far.     It  seems  a  pity,  but  I  do  not  think  I  can  write  more. 

R.  Scott 

For  God's  sake  look  after  our  people. 

Many  other  explorers'  diaries  might  be  mentioned,  but  these  three 

will  suffice  as  examples. 

Charac-         To  return  to  the  more  personal  diaries  which  are  being  con- 

ter^tics    gidered  here,  it  might  be  supposed  that  very  busy  people  do  not 

ans  s  ^^^^  diaries.     But  diary  writing  does  not  depend  on  time,  but  on 

inchnation.     It  requires  a  certain  effort  before  the  habit  can  be 

acquired,  and  many  people  find  this  effort  beyond  them,   not 

exactly  from  laziness,  but  from  a  feeling  either  that  it  is  not 

worth  while  or  that  their  fives  are  not  sufficiently  interesting  to 

warrant  any  record  being  kept.     Anyhow,  time  has  nothing  to 

do  with  it.     A  man  who  may  be  engrossed  in  his  business  or 


DIARY  WRITING  29 

profession  will  find  time  even  for  a  daily  record,  while  a  man  of 
leisure  may  not  take  the  trouble  to  write  at  all. 

Diarists  are  interested  in  themselves,  they  are  watching  them- 
selves journeying  along  the  road  of  life.  It  may  be  claimed  for 
them  that  they  are  not  of  a  vegetating  apathetic  disposition. 
They  are  awake,  alert,  and  alive  to  all  that  concerns  them,  and 
this  degree  of  egotism  will  make  the  busiest  of  them  find  time 
and  opportunity  for  writing  notes. 

There  are  some  noticeable  differences  between  the  diaries  of  W°^®^ 
women  and  the  diaries  of  men.  Women,  if  they  write  at  all, 
write  a  great  deal.  Listances  of  women  who  have  kept  daily  to 
periodic  brief  notes,  if  they  exist,  must  be  rare ;  the  idea  of  noting 
regularly  insignificant  details  of  daily  life  does  not  seem  to  apj)eal 
to  the  female  mind.  They  prefer  the  memoir  or  letter  form, 
which  gives  them  more  scope.  Women  are  sometimes  prolific 
letter  writers.  This  may  prevent  them  from  expanding  them- 
selves in  a  diary.  But  if  their  desire  for  self-expression  were 
deprived  of  this  outlet  it  is  not  unlikely  it  would  overflow  into 
the  pages  of  a  diary.  Lady  Mary  Coke  tried  to  combine  the  two, 
\\'ith  the  result  that  she  cannot  be  said  to  have  been  successful 
in  either.  Practically  all  the  diaries  of  women  mentioned  in 
these  volumes  are  the  diaries  of  well-known  and  more  or  less 
eminent  women,  with  the  exception  of  IVIrs.  Browne's  entertaining 
little  record,  whereas  it  has  been  easy  to  collect  the  diaries  of 
many  absolutely  unknown  men. 

Generally  speaking,  women  seem  to  be  more  cautious  and  less 
prone  to  give  themselves  away.  The  examples  discovered  of 
English  women  diarists  show  that  they  are  less  morbid  and 
introspective  and  fonder  of  objective  narrative.  Women  often 
excel  in  the  particular  line  they  set  themselves.  Their  powers 
of  narrative  are  sometimes  specially  good.  The  diaries  of  Fanny 
Kemble  and  Lady  Nugent  are  both  entertaining,  though  com- 
paratively little  known.  Celia  Fiennes  stands  by  herself  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  Lady  Cowper  amongst  others  in  the 
eighteenth  centm-y,  as  women  whose  distinctive  characters  are 
displayed  by  their  spontaneous  writing.  Queen  Victoria  must  be 
judged  more  by  the  early  diaries  and  by  the  knowledge  that  many 
volumes  of  a  similar  character  exist  than  by  the  Leaves  from  the 
Highlands.  The  women  social  diarists,  hke  the  men,  are  less 
interesting.  Rapture,  enthusiasm,  and  we  must  say,  too,  gush, 
abound  in  some  women's  diaries.  Indeed  Fanny  Burney  her- 
self, who  may  be  claimed  by  many  as  the  best  English  woman 
diarist,   is  by  no  means  immune  from  criticism  on  this  score. 


80  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

For  many  reasons  we  should  be  inclined  to  give  the  palm  among 
women  to  Caroline  Fox.  The  comparatively  small  number  of 
female  diarists  that  are  discoverable  may  be  taken  as  an  in- 
dication, not  so  much  that  women  were  formerly  less  addicted 
to  diary  ■\\Titing  than  men,  but  that  women's  education  in  the 
past  was  largely  neglected.  As  the  centuries  pass,  however, 
the  number  of  women  diarists  seems  to  increase,  and  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  there  were  undoubtedly  a  large  number,  although 
many  of  these  diaries  are  not  available. 
Objective  There  are  two  ways  of  estimating  a  diary :  according  to  the 
and  sub-  jjofht  it  throws  on  the  incidents  recorded,  or  the  light  it  throws 

16ClJlV© 

diaries  on  the  character  of  the  writer.  Most  diaries  have  been  examined 
and  judged  from  the  former  point  of  view;  footnotes,  ampli- 
fications and  even  new  material  for  history  have  been  discovered 
in  old  diaries.  New  facts  and  incidents  have  been  found  in  the 
lives  of  well-known  people,  and  fresh  revelations  have  been  made 
with  regard  to  their  characters.  Domestic  details,  expressions 
of  private  feelings,  and  all  the  more  intimate  particulars  are  dis- 
missed as  neghgible.  It  may  often  be  found  in  the  printed 
editions  of  diaries  that  editors  extract  only  those  portions  which 
deal  with  events  of  public,  historic  or  local  importance,  and  a 
note  will  be  found  declaring  that  the  rest  is  omitted  because  it 
was  only  of  a  private  character.  Many  a  diary  has  been  emas- 
culated in  this  way.  If,  however,  we  examine  diaries  from  the 
subjective  point  of  view  of  the  diarist,  the  so-called  private  part 
becomes  every  bit  as  important  as  the  rest.  Every  detail  helps 
to  acquaint  us  with  the  author,  his  method  of  writing,  his  manner 
of  living,  his  hopes  and  aspirations  and  his  inmost  thoughts.  In 
the  following  review  of  diaries  the  human  side  rather  than  the 
historical  side,  the  psychological  interest  rather  than  the  ob- 
jective interest,  is  dwelt  upon.  There  are  several  cases  in  which 
the  events  described  overshadow  other  considerations,  and  the 
author  can  only  be  reached  through  his  style  and  comments. 
But  in  many  other  cases  the  events  are  of  little  consequence,  and 
we  therefore  get  a  clearer  view  of  the  diarist. 
Should  It  may  be  asked  whether  reading  diaries  not  intended  for  pub- 

private  lication  is  not  prying  into  private  affairs,  spying  out  chambers 
be^read  ?  ^^  *^^  ^^^  ^^  have  no  business  to  enter,  peeping  behind  the 
curtain,  or,  as  Lord  Morley  puts  it,  "  violating  the  sanctuary." 
Are  we  justified  in  exposing  to  the  public  eye  intimate  reve- 
lations and  secret  thoughts  and  confidences  jotted  down  in  un- 
guarded moments  of  self-expansion  ?  Is  nothing  to  be  held 
sacred  and  inviolable  ?     Are  the  last  garments  which  conceal 


DIARY  WRITING  31 

nakedness  to  be  torn  off  by  our  eagerness  to  analyse  and  dissect 
beings  who  have  passed  away  and  therefore  cannot  protest  ? 
Whatever  may  be  the  reply  to  these  questions  from  the  ethical 
point  of  view,  scruples  and  misgivings  come  too  late  now.  The 
thing  has  been  done.  Private  diaries  not  intended  for  publica- 
tion and  others  about  which  there  is  doubt  have  been  unearthed, 
deciphered,  printed  and  published.  If  the  writers  did  not  wish 
this  they  should  have  taken  precautions  and  left  injunctions 
for  the  destruction  of  their  diaries.  Their  wishes  would  have 
been  respected.  There  are  several  known  instances  where 
"locked  books  '  and  diaries  were  kept  and  instructions  left  for 
their  destruction.  But  in  no  instance  in  the  diaries  considered 
in  this  volume  was  there  any  such  instruction.  On  the  contrary, 
we  are  disposed  to  thinkthattheabsenceof  any  specific  injunction 
implied  on  the  part  of  the  diarist  a  perhaps  imexpressed 
but  nevertheless  not  unabsent  expectation  that  what  he  or  she 
wrote  might  one  day  be  read. 

Anyhow  we  are  the  gainers.  In  no  case  do  we  think  less  of 
a  diarist  for  what  he  wrote  down,  though  we  may  be  surprised 
at  his  candour.  We  ourselves  are  all  guilty  of  unprintable  and 
unpublishable  feehngs,  and  this  ought  to  prevent  us  from  con- 
demning anyone  whose  feelings  of  this  sort  have  found  their  way 
on  to  a  printed  page  not  at  his  own  instigation. 

In  every  case  a  diary  amplifies  what  we  know  of  its  writer,  Diarista 
if  we  know  anything  at  all.  In  some  cases  a  new  and  different,  explain 
possibly  a  less  favourable,  Hght  is  thrown  on  the  character  of  the  g^i^g 
diarist.  Windham  and  Manning  are  examples  of  this.  The 
former  is  almost  unrecognisable  when  the  self  which  is  revealed 
is  compared  with  the  man  as  he  was  known.  In  the  latter  the 
inner  workings  of  a  complex  nature  which  we  catch  sight  of  alter 
the  general  estimate  of  him  that  was  accepted  for  pubhc  con- 
sumption. Some  deplore  such  diary  revelations  as  detracting 
from  the  high  opinion  of  the  figures  of  romance  which  history 
from  outside  presents.  But  surely  it  is  more  interesting  to  know 
the  real  man.  If  the  discovery  of  their  faults  and  weaknesses 
makes  us  lower  their  pedestals,  anyhow  we  are  taking  them  out 
of  the  realm  of  romance  into  the  realm  of  reality,  and  our  opinion 
need  not  be  lowered.  We  get  nearer  to  them  by  means  of  their 
own  explanation,  and  we  need  only  reflect  that  other  great  heroes 
who  are  still  aloft  would  be  foimd  to  be  just  as  faulty  had  we  the 
same  opportunity  of  scrutinising  them  through  the  pages  of  a 
full  diary. 

Diarists   cannot   help   explaining   themselves — ^unintentionally 


32  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

perhaps  and  incompletely.  Nevertheless  an  explanation  is  there. 
Not  only  to  the  general  public  in  the  case  of  published  diaries 
may  this  be  important,  but  in  the  case  of  private  and  unpublished 
diaries  the  closer  knowledge  may  prove  to  be  of  considerable 
consequence.  For  instance,  a  young  man  who  lost  his  father 
and  had  known  very  little  about  him,  one  day  came  across  his 
father's  diary  and  read  it.  In  a  letter  to  his  uncle  he  said  :  "  I 
was  surprised  how  little  I  knew  him  really  and  what  a  fine 
character  he  must  have  had  at  the  bottom.  It  gave  me  a  feeling 
of  affection  for  him  that  I  had  never  had  before.  I  think  I  under- 
:  stand  his  difficulties  and  peculiar  mentality.     I  could  sympathise 

;  with  him."     So  intimate  a  revelation  would  not  have  been  possible 

even  through  letters.     Knowledge  of  this  kind  goes  very  far  to 
dispel    misunderstandings    and    erroneous  judgments,  because  it 
produces    the    most    valuable    of    all    relationships,    which    is 
sympathy. 
Reflec-  In  diaries  human  nature— our  own  nature — is  revealed  to  us 

huSian  ^^  ^  ^^y  unattainable  in  any  other  form  of  writing.  The  hnea- 
natSre  ments  of  character  penetrate  freely.  We  recognise  the  joys,  the 
little  vanities,  the  disappointments,  the  exaggerated  ambitions, 
the  broken  resolutions.  We  can  enter  into  the  tri\aal  pleasures 
and  petty  miseries  of  daily  life — ^the  rainy  day,  the  blunt  razor, 
the  new  suit,  the  domestic  quarrel,  the  bad  night,  the  twinge  of 
toothache,  the  fall  from  a  horse,  the  newly  purchased  book,  the 
good  meal,  the  over-sharp  criticism,  the  irritating  relation,  the 
child's  maladies,  the  exasperating  servant.  We  know  them  all. 
We  have  experienced  many  of  them  ourselves.  Through  these 
casual  notes  we  are  brought  into  a  sort  of  familiar  relationship 
and  fellow-feeling  with  the  writer  which  philosophic  discourses 
N  or  even  collected  correspondence  cannot  produce  in  quite  the 
same  way.  We  find  in  them  a  reahty  and  a  life  which  the  more 
artistic  and  skilful  compositions  of  fiction  cannot  reach.  The 
diarist  is  endeared  to  us  for  the  strongest  of  all  possible  reasons — 
that  he  is  so  like  us.  His  diary  may  be  fatuous,  it  may  be  ridi- 
culous, it  may  be  insignificant,  it  may  be  dull,  but  if  he  is  not 
5  furbishing  up  a  memoir  for  pubhc  consumption  it  will,  with  aU 

I  its  defects,   be  human.     It  is  this  distinctive  humanity  which 

I  differentiates  diary  writing  from  other  forms  of  literature. 

Elements  There  may  be  some  difficulty  in  determining  what  constitutes 
necessary  ^  g^^^j  diary — good  that  is  to  say  from  the  point  of  \dew  of  a  reader 
good  who  is  a  stranger.  It  may  fulfil  the  intention  of  the  writer,  and 
diary  be  to  him  or  her  a  useful  book  of  reference,  or  give  information 
to  the  family.     But  we  must  look  at  it  from  the  point  of  view 


DIARY  WRITING  33 

of  the  general  reader.     Regularity  and  fulness  are  not  sufficient 
by  themselves.     Instances  will  be  given  of  regular  diaries  ex- 
tending over  long  periods  which  are  neither  particularly  edifying 
nor  entertaining.     There  are  good  and  bad  diaries  which  are  long 
and  regular ;   there  are  good  and  bad  diaries  which  are  short  and 
scrappy.     Entries    made   on    the    day    have    an    unquestionable 
advantage  over  entries  made  as  summaries  of  a  period  after 
delay  and  reflection.     The  entry  made  on  the  day  has  the  pecuhar 
freshness,   the  spontaneous  note  of  individuahty  which  cannot 
be  secured  otherwise.     It  is  the  snapshot,  rough,  unpremeditated 
—ill-composed  and  out  of  focus  perhaps— but  catching  the  fleet- 
ing expression  which  the  carefully  arranged  and  more  finished 
studio  photograph  misses.     But  the  imprint  of  a  passing  impres- 
sion fades  very  rapidly  from  the  sensitive  plate  of  our  memory. 
CaroHne  Fox,  resuming  her  journal  after  an  illness,  writes :   "  I 
write  all  tliis  now  because  my  feehngs  are  already  fading  into 
commonplace,  and  I  would  fain  fix  some  little  scrap  of  my  ex- 
perience."    Even  the  writer  with  little  natural  power  of  literary 
expression  may  scribble  down  a  phrase  at  the  moment  which  no 
amount  of  studied  ingenuity  on  the  part  of  a  literary  author  could 
equal.     This  spontaneity  is  a  form  of  sincerity  which  may  be 
claimed  as  the  one  indispensable  quality  for  a  good  diary.     If 
too  the  writer  has  not  pubHcation  definitely  in  view ;    if,  so  far 
as  it  is  possible,  he  is  just  talking  to  himself,  this  spontaneity 
will  be  all  the  more  evident.     This  in  itself  makes  the  style— not 
the  balanced  phrasing  of  a  literary  style,  but  the  mot  juste  forced 
on  the  diarist  by  his  close  proximity  to  the  incident  or  impression 
he  records.     Powers  of  observation  would  seem  to  be  an  indis- 
pensable part  of  the  equipment  of  a  good  diarist,  and  by  no  means 
all  diarists  have  those  powers  even  though  they  may  have  good 
memories,    which    is    quite    another    thing.     Perception,    which 
is  the  faculty  of  detaching  the  significant  from  the  things  observed, 
is  a  rare  talent.     The  diarist  who  possesses  it  will  never  fail  to 
keep  alert  a  reader  of  his  record. 

Egotism  improves  a  diary.  But  the  egotist  must  have  some 
method  or  else  he  will  not  keep  it  up.  Haydon  kept  it  up  to  the 
end.  Byron,  otherwise  an  admirable  diary-writer,  could  not 
persist  for  more  than  a  few  months.  The  writer  who  is  more 
concerned  with  what  he  is  recording  than  with  himself  or  than 
with  his  opinion  and  attitude  towards  his  subject  may  be  a  superior 
person,  but  he  is  unlikely  to  be  a  good  diarist.  It  would  be  going 
too  far  to  say  that  the  good  quahty  of  a  diary  is  in  inverse  ratio 
to  the  importance  of  the  events  related.  But  it  is  certainly  true 
3 


34 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 


Miscon- 
ception 
as  to 
capacity 
for 

keeping 
a  diary 


Triviali- 
ties 


that  the  diarist  who  sets  himself  the  task  of  chronichng  important 
public  affairs  must  either  be  a  literary  artist,  or  must  have  a 
specially  favourable  point  of  vantage  as  an  observer,  if  he  is  going 
to  attract  attention  to  his  record.  Some  succeed,  but  many 
more  fail. 

"  You  ought  to  keep  a  diary  "  is  a  remark  which  may  be  often 
heard  addressed  to  people  who  live  within  the  range  of  great 
events  and  mix  with  the  high  and  mighty.  "  I  do  not  keep  a 
diary  "  is  also  a  common  reply  of  people  who  go  on  to  explain 
that  they  do  not  meet  interesting  people  or  Hve  within  the  orbit 
of  public  affairs.  Both  these  remarks  show  an  entirely  wrong 
conception  of  diary  -wTiting.  Roughly  speaking,  the  majority 
of  diaries  of  eminent  people  or  participants  in  occurrences  of 
historical  moment  are  less  good  than  the  diaries  of  those  who 
live  out  of  the  beaten  track  in  comparative  obscurity.  It  is  the 
life  inside  and  the  personality  of  the  writer,  not  the  circumstances 
outside,  which  help  to  give  the  particular  quality  to  a  diary  which 
cannot  be  found  in  other  methods  of  writing.  The  world  of 
events  is  better  dealt  \\ith  by  history  and  memoirs,  but  the 
private  and  inner  Ufe  can  only  be  occasionally  snatched  in  its 
vital  reahty  by  the  observant  or  introspective  writer  of  a  daily 
record  who  by  the  advantage  of  an  inner  view  of  his  subject 
can  perhaps  commit  to  paper  an  exact  reflection  of  human  ex- 
perience. And  even  without  being  introspective  or  self-analytical, 
the  writer  of  a  record  of  quiet  days  among  unknown  people  can 
give  an  atmosphere  to  his  story  which  the  bewildered  recorder  of 
great  proceedings  may  be  unable  to  impart  to  his.  The  great 
fallacy  that  the  quality  of  a  diary  depends  on  the  circumstances 
in  which  a  person  is  placed  will  be  dispelled  by  a  perusal  of  the 
extracts  given  in  these  pages. 

Both  in  the  larger  and  in  the  minor  diaries  trivialities  seem  at 
times  to  count  more  than  the  weightier  events.  We  prefer 
Pepys  when  he  is  singing  with  Mercer  in  the  coach  while  his  wife 
is  shopping  rather  than  when  he  is  telling  us  about  the  exploits 
of  the  navy ;  we  pause  longer  over  Sir  Simonds  d'Ewes'  quarrels 
with  Mr.  Danford  than  over  his  poUtical  dissertations  ;  Shngsby 
is  interesting  on  the  Ci\'il  War,  but  one  cannot  help  specially 
sympathising  with  him  in  his  embarrassment  with  the  variety  of 
doctors  who  attend  his  wife.  General  Dyott  and  his  inconvenient 
cousin  Miss  Bakewell  amuse  us,  while  his  intercourse  with  his 
"  uncommonly  gracious  "  royal  acquaintances  palls.  Newcombe's 
piety  may  be  impressive,  but  his  failure  to  leave  off  smoking  is  a 
relief.    Elias  Ashmole   was  a  great    antiquary,  but  we   are  in- 


DIARY  WRITING  35 

terested  to  know  that  he  feU  ill  from  drinking  water  after  venison. 
Lady  Nugent  gives  a  good  description  of  Jamaica,  but  we  are 
also  amused  to  know  that  her  husband's  predecessor  had  dirty 
nails.  "^ 

All  this  does  not  mean  that  diary  readers  are  frivolous-minded 
but  that  diary  writers  are  at  their  best  when  they  are  just  scrib- 
bhng  down  with  effortless  frankness  the  httle  incidents  which 
they  are  honest  enough  to  record  as  having  caught  their  attention 
at  the  moment :  httle  incidents  which  may  indeed  be  of  greater 
personal  importance  to  them  than  their  participations  in  the 
larger  concerns,  the  great  flow  of  pubhc  life,  or  the  profound 
speculations  on  rehgion  in  which  individual  contributions  must 
at  most  be  very  insignificant. 

And    there    is    this    further    consideration:     political,    court,  Public 
military  and  diplomatic  incidents  fade  very  quickly  and  become  ^^ents 
stale  ;  unless  they  are  related  by  a  man  of  consequence  who  speaks  Stat« 
authoritatively   we   are   not   impressed.     Raikes's   gossip   about  ?pisodL 
Fans  under  Loms  Phihppe  was  no  doubt  quite  amusing  to  read 
a  year  or  two  after  he  wrote,  but  his  diary  wiU  find  very  few 
readers  to-day.     Personal  episodes  and  individual  reflections,  on 
the  other  hand,  retain  their  freshness  and  appeal  to  us  just  as 
much  after  the  passage  of  centuries.     The  case  of  Wilberforce 
IS  an  example  in  which  it  is  the  personal  rather  than  the  business 
and  social  entnes  that  give  the  diary  special  value.     We  are 
looking  for  the  human  being— that  is  the  truth  of  it— not  the 
sovereign,  the  bishop,  the  general,  the  author,  but  the  man  and 
woman ;   and  in  their  diaries  they  can  give  us  the  best  chance  of 
nndmg  them. 

It  may  be  said  then  that  daily  writing,  powers  of  observation  Composi- 
and  of  perception,  honesty  so  far  as  it  is  possible,  a  fair  quantum  tion  of  a 
ot  egotism,  no  immediate  thought  of  pubhcation,  no  pretentious  f,^^ 
atbtudmismg  and  no  hesitation  to  put  down  the  things  that        ^ 
ruffle  and  the  things  that  please  in  the  twelve  hours  that  have 
passed— a  certain  amount  of  recklessness  in  fact— wiU  help  to 
make  a  good  diary.     If  these  elements  are  combined  with  the 
pen  of  a  Pepys,  a  Fielding,  a  Fanny  Burney,  a  Byron,  a  Haydon, 
or  a  Barbelhon,  the  result  wiU  be  an  arresting  human  document. 
And  even  when  there  can  be  no  claim  to  special  h'^.^ary  talent 
as  m  such  cases  as  Teonge,  Baker,  Gale,  Strother,  Lady  Nugent 
etc    an  intimate  msight  into  human  character  is  provided  which 
could  not  be  gained  in  any  other  way.     The  diary  which  fulfils 
ail  the  above  conditions  and  which  may  without  dispute  be 
accorded  the  highest  place  among  Enghsh  diaries  is  undoubtedly 


36  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

that  of  Pepys.  It  is  dealt  with  in  its  place  with  as  much  fulness 
as  space  will  allow,  although  insufficiently  to  bring  all  its  merits 
to  light.  Much  has  been  written  about  Pepys,  and  the  diary  is 
accessible  in  many  editions,  so  that  it  has  not  been  thought  neces- 
sary to  give  him  in  these  pages  the  larger  proportion  of  attention 
which  is  his  due. 

But  while  the  elements  which  seem  to  make  a  good  diary  can 
be  enumerated,  it  is  really  useless  to  lay  down  rules  and  regula- 
tions or  prescriptions  for  diary  writing.  For  a  diary  may  be  found 
to  contravene  most  of  them  and  yet  be  very  readable.  If  a  man 
sets  out  to  conform  to  rules  or  to  adopt  a  style  which  is  not 
absolutely  natural  to  him,  if  he  writes  with  intention  and  be- 
comes self-conscious  about  his  writing,  it  will  mean  that  he  has 
his  eye  on  a  possible  reader :  the  thought  of  eventual  publication 
will  obtrude  and  pure  spontaneity  will  inevitably  vanish.  The 
only  safe  advice  is — follow  no  rule,  write  as  you  like.  The  only 
rule  is  that  there  is  no  rule.  Indeed,  for  some  almost  inexplicable 
reason  one  diary  may  absorb  a  reader  to  the  extent  of  his  not 
wanting  to  miss  a  single  entry ;  while  in  another  he  may  find 
difficulty  in  reading  two  consecutive  pages.  It  is  not  the  style 
or  the  subject,  it  is  the  personality  behind  which  counts,  and 
that  personahty  must  be  free,  without  intention  and  without 
premeditation,  to  make  use  of  whatever  form  or  method  it  desires. 
The  personality  may  strike  one  as  pleasant  or  unpleasant ;  this 
in  no  way  affects  the  quahty  of  the  diary. 
Long  Fulness  and  length,  that  is  to   say  long  continuance,  are  no 

dianes  particular  assets.  It  might  be  interesting  to  know  which  is  the 
longest  English  diary.  But  without  an  examination  of  all  the 
manuscripts  there  is  no  means  of  deciding  the  question.  In 
some  cases  parts  of  a  manuscript  are  missing  ;  and  length  of  time 
does  not  necessarily  indicate  length  of  diary.  However,  the 
honour  would  probably  fall  to  one  of  the  following :  Greville 
(40  years),  Crabb  Robinson  (56  years),  Thoresby  (57  years), 
Haydon  (60  years),  Wesley  (66  years),  Queen  Victoria  (68  years), 
or  Egmont,  who  only  wrote  for  about  18  years,  but  at  immense 
length. 
CriticiBm  There  may  be  superior  persons  who  condemn  diaries  as  frivo- 
writinT  ^^^^  ^^^  negligible  unless  they  deal  with  historical  incidents. 
People  who  attach  more  importance  to  the  actual  than  to  the 
human  may  agree.  But  every  event,  every  historical  fact,  is 
composed  in  its  essence  of  purely  human  elements.  Anjrthing, 
therefore,  which  contributes  to  a  knowledge  of  humanity,  not 
only   prominent   humanity,    but   humble   humanity,  ought   not 


writing 


DIARY  WRITING  37 

to   be   ignored   by   historians,   or  indeed   by   philosophers   and 
psychologists. 

Apart  from  this  wholesale  condemnation  of  the  practice  it 
maybe  questionable  whether  diary  writing,  or  anyhow  some  forms 
of  it,  is  not  rather  a  snare,  an  encouragement  to  the  revolving  of 
wheels  that  do  not  bite.  Curiously  enough  the  most  uncom- 
promising condemnation  of  it  comes  from  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated diarists.  Amiel  writes  :  "  A  private  journal  is  a  friend 
to  idleness.  It  frees  us  from  the  necessity  of  looking  all  round 
a  subject,  it  puts  up  with  every  kind  of  repetition,  it  accom- 
panies all  the  caprices  and  meandering  of  inner  hfe  and  proposes 
to  itself  no  definite  end  ...  a  journal  takes  the  place  of  a  confidant 
that  is  a  friend  or  wife,  it  becomes  a  substitute  for  production,  it 
is  a  grief-cheating  device,  a  mode  of  escape  and  withdrawal.  But 
though  it  takes  the  place  of  everything,  properly  speaking  it 
represents  nothing  at  all." 

Few  people  dream  of  attempting  to  keep  the  sort  of  diary  which 
Amiel  continued  to  keep  in  spite  of  this  outburst.  Whatever 
may  be  the  effect  on  diarists  their  productions  anyhow  supply 
us  with  a  form  of  writing  we  should  be  very  sorry  to  be  deprived 
of. 

History  and  literature  are  apt  to  represent  people  more  as  Distino- 
actors  than  human  beings.     They  become  figures  of  romance  ^^^^ 
rather  outside  the  human  range.     But  we  find  ourselves  drawn  ^^^*'^^ 
to  people  at  once  when  we  discover  they  are  just  hke  ourselves 
and  did  actually  by  their  own  testimony  given  in  their  own 
words— and  not  in  the  great  language  of  history— lose  their  tem- 
per, enjoy  their  dinner,  quarrel  with  their  famihes,  catch  cold, 
be  elated  by  worldly  joys,  and  dejected  by  the  perplexities  of 
human  existence.     Sovereigns,  statesmen,  saints,  poets,  generals 
and  scholars  are  brought  down  to  our  own  level,  and  as  Moore  says, 
"  we  rejoice  in  the  discovery  so  consohng  to  human  pride  that 
even   the   mightiest   in  their   moments   of  ease    and   weakness 
resemble  ourselves." 

It  must  be  admitted  that  the  diary  form  of  writing  is  awkward  The  diary 
and  not  always  easy  to  read.  As  a  vehicle  for  conveying  precise  ^°"" 
information  it  is  cumbrous  and  diffuse.  Repetitions,  abbrevia- 
tions, hsts  of  names  of  people,  bald  registering  of  the  dates  of 
inovements,  of  births  and  deaths,  the  occasional  dropping  and 
picking  up  of  threads,  unnecessary  prohxity,  puzzhng  laconism, 
and  Uttle  mysteries  of  which  there  is  no  explanation,  are  constant 
obstacles  to  the  easy  run  which  a  reader  wants.  There  is  indeed 
no  form,  no  order,  no  attempt  at  construction— often  no  begin- 


38  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

ning,  no  culmination,  and  only  a  broken  ending.  In  rare  cases 
only  is  there  any  attempt  at  literary  style  or  finish.  The  more  or 
less  complete  diaries  are  a  minority,  and  Haydon's  last  entry  is 
unique.  For  the  most  part  the  diaries  are  fragmentary — shreds 
torn  from  a  bit  of  cloth  which  itself  was  not  cut  or  trimmed  into 
shape.  It  may  be  that  these  drawbacks  prevent  diaries  from 
being  popular  reading.  Yet  the  appearance  of  a  contemporary 
diary  always  has  a  certain  succes  de  scandals.  The  diary  form  is 
often  imitated  in  fiction  and  some  sham  diaries  have  had  a  con- 
siderable vogue :  notably  the  diary  of  Lady  Willoughby,  a 
fictitious  seventeenth-century  diary  which  appeared  in  the  early 
nineteenth  century,  the  very  successful  and  not  entirely  fictitious 
Pages  from  a  Private  Diary,  which  was  published  not  long  ago, 
and  The  Diary  of  a  Nobody,  which  has  become  almost  a  classic. 
The  broken  diary  form  of  periodic  dated  entries  has  been  adopted 
in  notebooks  which  are  not  in  themselves  diaries,  such  for  instance 
as  Samuel  Butler's  notebooks  and  Jowett's  memoranda.  Its 
adoption  is  an  indication  of  spontaneity  and  for  the  noting  of 
personal  impressions  and  reflections  of  the  moment  can  be  very 
effective.  Nevertheless  the  diary  form  seems  more  suitable  for 
occasional  than  consecutive  reading.  Biographers  meet  the 
difficulty  by  taking  bits  of  diary  as  illustrations  and  fitting  them 
in  here  and  there  to  complete  the  life  story.  But  most  diarists 
have  not  acquired  fame  enough  to  justify  their  biographies  being 
written  at  all.  In  these  cases  the  fragmentary  entries  are  all  we 
have  ;  and  if  the  reluctance  to  read  the  clumsy  little  notes  can  be 
overcome,  it  is  astonishing  how  much  human  interest  may  be 
discovered  in  them,  and  how  distinctly  one  is  able  to  form  an 
estimate  of  the  character  of  the  writer.  They  also  have  the  ad- 
vantage that  there  has  been  no  thought  of  publication. 
Variety  To  collect  together  people  as  diarists  is  no  arbitrary  grouping 
®"^  any  more  than  to  collect  poets  or  dramatists.     All  who  write 

diaries  take  themselves  more  or  less  seriously,  and  have  in  com- 
mon a  desire  to  register  and  record  the  incidents  connected  with 
their  own  lives  and  sometimes  to  note  thoughts  and  opinions. 
Whether  it  be  from  habit,  egotism,  vanity,  or  self-discipline, 
they  are  by  this  practice  connected  together  by  a  very  tangible 
link.  It  is  interesting  therefore  to  note  the  variety  that  exists 
within  this  classification ;  and,  more  than  variety,  the  astonishing 
contrasts.  Take,  for  instance,  two  lifelong  and  regular  diarists, 
Haydon  and  Wesley,  both  vain  and  both  religious.  Different 
as  were  the  careers  of  the  unsuccessful  artist  and  the  eminently 
successful   divine,   the   dramatic   and   highly  coloured  narrative 


DIARY  WRITING  39 

of  the  one  and  the  methodical  register  of  the  other  form  an  even 
greater  contrast.  Or  take  Captain  Lloyd,  who  was  killed  in  the  Boer 
War,  and  Arthur  Graeme  West,  who  was  killed  in  the  Great  War, 
both  British  officers,  the  official  records  of  whose  careers  would 
not  be  found  to  be  very  different,  both  the  product  of  more  or  less 
the  same  age,  and  the  same  system  of  education.  The  bald, 
almost  professional  notes  of  the  one  and  the  elaborate  self-analysis 
of  the  other  present  perhaps  as  great  a  contrast  as  any  two  diaries 
in  the  collection.  Read  General  Dyott  on  the  Florentine  gallery, 
and  then  turn  to  a  page  of  J.  A.  Symonds  on  the  same  subject, 
and  they  were  both  of  them  lifelong  diarists.  Elizabeth  Fry  and 
Frances  Lady  Shelley  were  T\Titing  their  diaries  at  the  same  time, 
but  their  outlook  on  life  could  hardly  have  been  more  divergent. 
George  Ehot,  a  famous  novelist,  gives  us  very  dry  notes  and 
rather  depressing  reflections ;  Lady  Charlotte  Bury,  a  very 
obscure  novelist,  fills  her  pages  with  sentimental  rapture  and 
gossip.  Henry  Newcombe  and  Henry  Teonge  lived  about  the 
same  time  in  the  seventeenth  century  and  both  Avere  ministers 
of  religion.  Newcombe's  severe  religious  self-discipline  and  pious 
phraseology  has  little  resemblance  to  Teonge's  free  and  easy 
enjoyment  of  life  expressed  in  language  that  has  to  be  expurgated. 
A  famous  early  nineteenth-century  huntsman  and  a  parlia- 
mentary visitor  for  the  destruction  of  Church  ornaments  under 
the  Commonwealth  both  keep  a  diary  for  the  exclusive  record 
of  their  professional  work.  The  Rev.  Henry  Martyn  keeps  the 
diary  of  a  rigid  and  penitent  ascetic ;  the  Rev.  W.  S.  Millar 
keeps  a  hunting  diary.  We  gather  into  the  same  fold  Gladstone, 
the  great  statesman  concerned  with  events  of  high  national  im- 
port, and  Turner,  the  storekeeper,  who  recounts  his  village 
orgies ;  we  can  have  side  by  side  the  royal  gossip  of  a  lady-in- 
waiting  and  the  metaphysical  introspection  of  a  museum  assistant, 
the  experiences  of  a  not  very  high-minded  village  schoolmaster 
naturally  told,  and  the  scholarly  reflections  of  an  Eton  master 
rather  sententiously  expressed ;  and  no  two  individuals  could  be 
further  removed  from  one  another  in  character,  temperament, 
and  experience  than  our  two  monarch  diarists. 

Another  sort  of  contrast  is  afforded  by  diaries  which  deal  with 
the  same  subject,  not  because  of  the  difference  in  the  style,  method, 
or  personality  of  the  writers,  but  because  of  the  widely  separated 
periods  in  which  they  lived.  The  account  of  warfare  given  by 
Coningsby,  the  officer  who  accompanied  an  expeditionary  force 
to  France  in  the  days  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  compared  with  the 
account  of  warfare  given  by  Gordon-Lennox,  who  accompanied 


40  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

the  expeditionary  force  to  France  in  1914,  may  give  food  for 
reflection  to  those  who  beheve  in  "  the  progress  of  civihsation." 
Differ-  Whether  by  contrast  or  by  resemblance  diaries  show  us  that 

disposi*-  people  of  the  same  class,  age,  and  even  profession,  may  differ 
tion  in  fundamentally  in  their  outlook  on  life,  and  also  that  although 
diarists  their  lot  may  be  cast  in  very  different  spheres  and  although  they 
same  pro-  ^^^Y  live  separated  by  centuries,  they  may  yet  have  in  common 
fession      just  that  degree  of  self-consciousness  and  vanity  which  impels 

them  to  watch  and  note  their  daily  experiences. 
^^*"®^  No  conjecture  can  be  made  of  what  proportion  of  educated 

people  have  kept  diaries,  on  account  of  the  large  number  which 
must  have  been  destroyed.  In  the  days  of  the  monasteries 
it  is  not  improbable  that  some  of  those  who  led  the  contemplative 
life  noted  with  regularity  the  thoughts  and  impressions  which 
occurred  to  them  in  the  routine  of  the  cloister.  Yet  only  the 
Chronicle  of  Jocehn  of  Brakelond,  which  is  not  a  diary,  brings 
us  into  any  close  relation  with  monastic  life.  This  is  not  svu*- 
prising  when  we  know  how  the  hbraries  and  archives  of  abbeys 
and  monasteries  were  treated  at  the  dissolution.  The  wholesale 
destruction  was  carried  out  on  a  grand  scale,  although  grocers 
may  have  rescued  a  few  sheets  for  their  parcels.  Old  papers 
in  the  lumber  rooms  of  country  houses  were  regarded  as  rubbish 
till  comparatively  recent  years,  and  it  is  only  in  exceptional  cases 
that  much  has  been  preserved.  Even  now  people  are  apt  to 
destroy  the  diaries  of  their  grandparents,  under  the  impression 
that  they  can  be  of  no  interest  as  they  only  deal  with  domestic 
incidents  of  obscure  hves. 

Nevertheless,  unknown  manuscript  diaries  may  be  peppered 
about  the  country  in  numbers  which  we  cannot  guess  at.  Their 
whereabouts  is  beyond  the  reach  of  the  antiquary  and  cata- 
logue maker  and  we  have  here  to  rest  satisfied  with  the  very  few 
examples  of  these  private  manuscripts  which  have  come  within 
range.  Perhaps  these  diaries  still  under  lock  and  key,  some  not 
having  yet  the  value  given  by  antiquity,  others  not  considered 
worth  printing,  form  the  majority  of  existing  diaries.  There  is 
no  means  of  knowing.  But  taking  these  into  account,  as  well  as 
a  considerable  number  which  must  have  been  destroyed  along  with 
letters,  accounts,  deeds,  and  other  manuscript  records,  it  may 
safely  be  asserted  that  a  comparatively  small  minority  of  people 
have  been  and  are  now  diarists. 
Diarists  a  An  inquiry  with  regard  to  diary  keeping  made  of  a  hundred 
™inon  y  gj^jj^^tg^j  people  chosen  at  random  has  produced  the  following 
result. 


DIARY  WRITING  41 

The  hundred  consisted  of  fifty-six  males  and  forty-four  females, 
sixty-five  of  them  over  30,  thirty-five  under  30. 

Twenty-four  (twelve  males  and  twelve  females)  keep  diaries. 
Seventy- six  (forty-four  males  and  thirty-two  females)  do  not 
keep  diaries.  Those  who  do  not  keep  diaries  include  twenty-six 
(eleven  males  and  fifteen  females)  who  either  in  their  childhood 
or  on  a  special  occasion  have  kept  diaries  which  have  been  dis- 
continued. 

The  twenty-four  diarists  included  sixteen  persons  over  30 ; 
eight  under.  The  seventy-six  non-diarists  forty-nine  over  30 ; 
twenty-seven  under. 

The  number  is  too  small  to  serve  as  a  basis  for  any  enlightening 
deductions,  but  it  is  probably  fairly  representative.  Something 
like  20  to  25  per  cent,  of  educated  people  may  be  reckoned  as 
keeping  diaries  of  some  sort.  In  the  table  females  show  pro- 
portionately a  shght  preponderance  over  males.  This  may  be 
true  now,  though  in  the  earher  centuries  they  were  undoubtedly 
in  a  small  minority.  The  figures  do  not  seem  to  show  that  the 
younger  generation  are  either  more  or  less  inclined  to  keep  diaries 
than  the  elder.  There  may  be  a  tendency  to  consider  that  diary 
writing  is  an  occupation  for  the  leisured  class.  But  as  we  have 
already  pointed  out,  spare  time  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
it.  What  is  true  is  that  owing  to  a  defective  or  rather  non- 
existent educational  system  in  the  past  the  great  mass  of  the 
people  were  either  prevented  from  being  able  to  write  at  all  or 
found  writing  a  considerable  effort.  Once  writing  becomes  as 
easy  for  one  person  as  another  and  real  education  spreads  over 
the  whole  community  the  number  of  diarists  will  increase  actually 
in  numbers  ;  but  proportionately,  owing  to  diary  writing  being 
a  matter  of  temperament,  the  percentage  is  hkely  to  remain 
about  the  same. 

The  diaries  collected  here  have  been  arranged  more  or  less  in  Arrange- 
chronological    order.     Their    classification    according    to    subject  Maries' 
or  the  profession  of  the  writer  would  have  been  too  awkward  reviewed 
and  many  could  not  have  been  fitted  into  any  particular  category. 
The  method  of  detaching  each  one  separately  appeared  to  be  the 
best   way  of  illustrating  their  individual   characteristics.     Ex- 
tracts of  special  passages  often  give  a  good  idea  of  the  diarist 
and  his  method  and  opinions,  but  there  are  many  cases  where 
something  is  lost  because  a  still  fuller  revelation  of  character 
and  circumstances  would  certainly  be  gained  by  the  consecutive 
reading  of  daily  entries  even  though  many  of  them  might  be,  com- 
paratively speaking,  dull.     PecuMarities  and  characteristics  can 


42  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

be  illustrated  by  extracts,  but  the  perusal  of  the  whole  diary  and 
if  possible  the  handling  of  the  original  manuscript  would  assist 
very  much  the  reahsation  of  the  actual  atmosphere. 

Some  one  hundred  and  twenty  diaries  are  reviewed  and  a  score 
or  so  of  others  have  been  examined.  While  no  doubt  the  Friends' 
Library  and  the  United  Service  Institution  contain  the  manu- 
scripts of  some  others,  there  is  good  reason  to  beheve  that  the 
collection  of  another  hundred  diaries  would  be  attended  with 
difficulty  %vithout  access  to  the  archives  of  country  houses  or 
without  the  key  of  the  cupboards  where  old  family  papers  are 
reposing  on  dusty  shelves.  Some  doubt  may  be  expressed  as  to 
whether  the  right  proportion  of  notice  has  been  given  to  all  the 
various  and  widely  differing  diaries  in  the  collection.  The  un- 
questionable importance  of  the  subjects  dealt  with  in  some  of 
them  might  seem  to  warrant  their  fuller  treatment.  Byron  did 
not  write  for  more  than  a  few  months  and  perhaps  ought  hardly 
to  be  called  a  diarist,  but  his  method  and  matter  seem  to  justify 
longer  quotations  being  made  from  his  record  than  from  far  fuller 
and  more  regular  diaries.  But  throughout,  not  the  subject,  but 
the  quaUty  of  the  diaries  is  the  matter  under  consideration.  The 
decision  as  to  their  relative  value  becomes  therefore  a  matter  of 
opinion  which  while  it  may  seem  arbitrary  can  best  be  arrived 
at  by  a  perusal  of  them  all. 

Surveying  the  series  from  Edward  VI  to  Barbellion,  we  can 
note  the  growth  of  elaboration,  the  expansion  of  more  philosophic 
self-analysis  and  greater  sophistication.  But  it  would  be  very 
far  from  true  to  say  that  our  later  diaries  are  superior  to  our 
earlier  ones. 
Diary  In  conclusion  it  may  be  assumed  with  general  agreement  that 

^ul^b   ^^^  writing  is  a  practice  that  should  be  encouraged.     People 
encoiar-     need  only  consult  their  own  convenience  and  mood,  they  need  obey 
aged         no  rules,  they  may  follow  their  own  inclination  to  write  regu- 
larly, irregularly,  fully,  or  briefly.     They  may  publish  or  not  as 
they  wish.     But  let  them  reahse  that  no  special  talent,  and  more 
particularly  no   high  position  or  favoxirable   circumstance,  will 
necessarily  make  their  diary  important  or  interesting.     In  fact, 
its  interest  or  importance  is  not  a  matter  that  need  concern  them. 
They  may  or  may  not  find  it  useful  for  reference,  but  let  them 
never  think  that  the  personal  jottings  of  any  human  being  are 
entirely   futile. 
'  We  may  go  so  far  as  to  deplore  that  there  are  not  more  diaries  in 

existence.  In  spite  of  their  necessary  hmitations,  their  inaccuracies 
and  their  bias,  they  would  add  considerably  to  the  sum  total  of 


DIARY  WRITING  43 

iiuman  knowledge.     Towards  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century 
the  practice  of  diary  writing  was  undoubtedly  very  much  favoured, 
although  many  of  the  diaries  of  that  period  have  not  yet  emerged 
from  their  cupboards.     The   appearance  of  Marie  Bashldrtseff' s 
journal  encouraged  many  people  to  make  a  similar  attempt.     In 
earlier  and  more  leisurely  days,  too,  when  people  wi-ote  long  letters 
and  authors  rewrote  and  rewrote  their  books,  opportunity  was  found 
for  diary  writing.      In  the  more  mechanical  age  in  which  we  now 
live  excessive  pressure  caused  by  the  mania  for  movement  and 
the  frenzied   eagerness  for   varied  sensations   make  accomphsh- 
ment  of  every  sort  more  difficult,  and  render  moments  for  re- 
flection much  more  rare.     People  are  not  busier,  but  they  hear 
and  see  too  much  and  they  are  more  quickly  tired,  and  it  may  be 
surmised  that  apart  from  diaries  produced  by  the  war,  there  are 
rather  fewer  diarists  relatively  speaking.     The  lack  of  reticence 
■on  the  part  of  the  younger  generation  may  be  a  defect,  but  if  they 
wrote  diaries  it  would  become  a  quality.     It  is  to  be  feared,  how- 
ever, that  their  egotism  takes  a  cruder  and  more  external  form. 

If  nevertheless  there  are  indeed  more  diary  writers  to-day  it 
will  be  an  advantage  for  posterity.  Notwithstanding  all  the 
immense  store  of  facts  we  are  compihng  by  means  of  newspapers, 
books,  registers  and  official  records  with  regard  to  the  history 
of  our  own  times,  the  privately  written  comments  of  an  individual 
spontaneously  scribbled  and  so  reproducing  the  mood,  the  atmo- 
sphere, and,  so  to  speak^  the  particular  aroma  of  the  moment,  are 
priceless  and  can  be  regarded  as  the  spice  of  history.  Diaries  link 
up  the  reader  of  to-day  with  the  writer  of  the  past  with  intimate 
threads  and  exhibit  as  nothing  else  can  the  unbroken  consecutive 
flow  of  human  endeavour,  failure  and  hope. 


LIST  OF  DIARIES 


ARRANGED  IN  CHRONOLOGICAL  ORDER 


SIXTEENTH   CENTURY 


Name  of  Diarist. 

Occupation. 

Date  of 
Diary. 

Source. 

Page. 

Edward  VI    .      . 

King    . 

1549-1552 

Literary  Remains  of 
Edward  VI,  ed.  by 
J.  G.  Nichols,  1857. 
Clarendon  Histori- 
cal Reprints,  1884 

55 

Henry  Machyn  . 

Undertaker     . 

1550-1563 

Camden     Society, 
vol.  42 

58 

Dr.  John  Dee     . 

Astrologer   and 

1554^1601 

Camden    Society, 

mathematician 

vol.  19 

61 

Sir    Francis 

Statesman 

1570-1583 

Camden  Miscellanies, 

Walsingham 

1871 

66 

Sir     Thomas 

Soldier 

•1591 

Camden  Miscellanies, 

Coning  sby 

1847 

68 

SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY 


Sir     Simonds 

Barrister,  Mem- 

1619-1636 

Autobiography  of  Sir 

d'Ewes 

ber  of  Parlia- 
ment and  an- 

Simonds     d'Ewes, 
ed.  by  J.  0.  HaUi- 

tiquary 

weU,  1845 

71 

Sir    Henry 

Member  of  Par- 

1638-1648 

The    Diary    of    Sir 

Slingsby 

Uament      and 
soldier 

Henry  Slingsby,  ed. 
by    the    Rev.    D. 
Parsons,  1836 

76 

Samuel  Pepys    . 

Clerk     of     the 
Acts,  Clerk  of 

1660-1669 

Pepys'  Diary,  ed.  by 
H.    B.    Wheatley. 

y 

the  Privy  Seal 

Samuel  Pepys,  by 

and  Secretary 
to     the     Ad- 

Percy      Lubbock, 
1909,  R.  L.  Steven- 

miralty 

son's  essay,  etc. 

82 

John  Evelyn  . 

Country  gentle- 
man and 
author 

1640-1706 

The  Diary  of  John 
Evelyn,      ed.      by 
Austin       Dobson, 
1906,  3  vols. 

96 

Henry  Teonge     . 

Naval  chaplain 

1675-1676 

Teonge' s     Dia/ry, 

1678-1679 

1826 

107 

45 


46 

ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Minor  Diaries 

Name  of  Diarist. 

Occupation, 

Date  of 
Diary. 

Source. 

Page. 

John 

Barrister    . 

1602-1603 

Camden        Society, 

Manningham 

1868,    Brit.    Mus. 
Harleian  MS.  5353 

112 

Elias  Ashmole    . 

Antiquary . 

1641-1687 

Diary  and  Letters  of 
Elias  AshTnole,nn 

114 

John  Rouse   .     , 

Clergyman. 

1625-1642 

Camden        Society, 
66 

11& 

Sir    William 

Coiintry  gentle- 

1634 

Surtees  Society,  vol. 

Brereton 

man  and  tra- 
veller   - 

124 

lis 

John  Aston    . 

Courtier 

1639 

Surtees  Society,  vol. 
118 

119 

William  Dowsing 

Iconoclast  . 

1643-1644 

The  Journal  of  Wil- 
liam, Dowsing,   1st 
Ed.  1786,  2nd  Ed. 
1818 

120 

Adam  Eyre    .      . 

Country  gentle- 

1646-1648 

Surtees  Society,  vol. 

man 

65 

122 

Giles  Moore  . 

Clergyman. 

1653-1679 

Sussex    Archaeologi- 
cal Collections,  vol.  I 

125 

Henry 

Presbyterian 

1661-1663 

Cheetham     Society, 

Newcombe 

minister 

vol.  XVIII 

128 

Oliver  Heywood  . 

Nonconformist 
divine 

166&-1702 

Oliver        Heywood's 
Diaries,  ed.  by  J. 
Horsfall  Turner,  4 
vols.,  1881 

131 

Ralph  Thoresby. 

Antiquary . 

1667-1724 

Diary       of      Ralph 
Thoresby,    ed.     by 
Jos.      Hunter,      2 
vols.,  1830 

134 

Sir    Walter 

Country  gentle- 

1670-1718 

Surtees  Society,  vol. 

Calverley 

man 

77 

136 

Dr.  Edward  Lake 

Chaplain      and 

1677-1678 

Camden  Miscellanies, 

archdeacon 

vol.  I 

138 

Abraham  de  la 

Clergyman  and 

1680-1704 

Surtees  Society,  1870 

Pryme 

antiquary 

140 

Timothy  Burrell 

Barrister    . 

1686-1717 

Sussex    Archaeologi- 
cal Collect.,  vol. Ill 

142 

Thomas 

Bishop 

1686-1687 

Camden        Society, 

Cartwright 

vol.  22 

144 

John  More     . 

Clergyman .  •    . 

1694-1700 

Brit.  Mus.  Add.  MS. 
28,041 

147 

Celia  Fiennes      . 

1695-1697 

Throtigh  England  on 
a  Sidesaddle  in  the 
Time    of    William 
and  Mary,  1888 

148 

T.  Rugge .       .      ) 
N.  Luttrell      .      j 

Annalists    . 

1659-1724 

Brit.  Mus.  Add.  MS. 
10,116  and  10,447 

152 

LIST  OF  DIARIES 


47 


Short  Notices 


Name  of  Diarist. 

Occupation. 

Date  of 
Diary. 

Source. 

Page. 

William 

1608-1633 

Historical        Manu- 

Ayshcombe 

scripts       Commis- 
sion,    Report     10, 
Appendix  VI 

153 

T.  Dugard      .      . 

Clergyman 

1632-1643 

Brit.  Mus.  Add.  MS. 
23,146 

154 

John      Manners, 

Courtier 

1639 

Historical        Manu- 

Earl of  Rutland 

scripts       Commis- 
sion,    Report    12, 
Appendix  IV 

154 

Jacob  Bee 

Tradesman 

1681-1706 

Surtees  Society,  vol. 
118 

154 

Richard  Stapley  . 

Country  gentle- 

1682-1710 

Sussex  Archaeological 

man 

Collections,  vol.  II 

155 

John  Bufton  .     . 

1699 

Essex  Archaeological 
Transactions,  vol.  I 

155 

EIGHTEENTH   CENTURY 


John  Wesley 


Viscount  Percival, 
Earl  of  Egmont 


Fanny    Bumey 
(Madame 
d'Arblay) 


Williami  Windham 


Divine 


Member  of  Par- 
liament 


1725-1791 


1728-1733 


NoveUst 


Statesman 


1768-1819 


1784-1810 


The  Journal  of  John 
Wesley,  Standard 
Edn.,  8  vols.,  1910, 
JohnWesley's  Jour- 
nal, abridged ;  pref . 
by  A.  Birrell 

Diary  of  Viscount 
Percival,  Earl  of 
Egmont,  Historical 
Manuscripts  Com- 
mission, Vol.  I, 
1920 

Early  Diaries  of 
Frances  Bumey,  2 
vols.,  1889.  Diary 
and  Letters  of 
Madame  d'Arblay, 
ed.  by  Austin  Dob- 
son,  1904 

The  Diary  of  William 
Windham,  ed.  by 
Mrs.  Baring,  1866 


156 


164 


171 


184 


48 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 


Minor  Diaries 


Name  of  Diarist. 

Occupation. 

Date  of 
Diary. 

Source. 

Page. 

Mary,  Countess 

Lady  in  waiting 

1714-1720 

Diary    oj  Mary, 

Cowper 

Countess     Cowper, 
1804 

193 

Thomas  Marchant 

Yeoman  farmer 

1714-1728 

Sussex    Archaeologi- 
cal Collection,  vol. 
XXV 

196 

John  Thomlinson 

Clergyman 

1717-1722 

Surtees  Society,  vol. 
118 

197 

John  Byrom  . 

Poet  and  theo- 
logian 

1722-1744 

Cheetham     Society, 
vols.    XXXII, 
XXXIV,  XL  and 
XLIV 

200 

Elizabeth  Byrom 

— 

1745-1746 

Cheetham     Society, 
vol.  XLIV 

203 

John  Hobson 

Country  gentle- 
man 

1725-1734 

Surtees  Society,  vol. 
65 

205 

Walter  Gale  .     . 

Schoolmaster  . 

1749-1759 

Sussex    Archaeologi- 
cal Collections,  vol. 
IX 

206 

George  Bubb 

Member  of  Par- 

1749-1761 

The     Diary     of     G. 

Dodington 

liament 

Bubb  Dodington,  ed. 

^  (Lord 

by       Henry       P. 

Melcombe) 

Wyndham,  1785 

208 

John  Baker   .      . 

Solicitor     . 

1750-1779 

Sussex    Archaeologi- 
cal Collections,  vol. 
LII.    MS.  at  New- 
buildings,  Sussex 

212 

John  Rutty 

Doctor 

1753-1774 

A    Spiritual   Diary, 
by     John     Rutty, 
M.D.,       2      vols., 
1776 

215 

Mrs.  Browne 

1754-1757 

Original  MS.  in  the 
possession   of    Mr. 
S.  A.  Covu-tauld 

220 

Henry  Fielding   . 

NoveUst 

1754 

The    Journal    of    a 
Voyage    to    Lisbon 
by  H.  Fielding,  ed. 
by  Austin  Dobson, 
1892 

224 

Thomas  Turner 

Tradesman 

1754-1765 

Sussex    Archaeologi- 
cal Collections,  vol. 
XI 

227 

John  Dawson 

Captain    of 

1761 

Surtees  Society,  vol. 

militia 

124 

231 

Lady  Mary  Coke 

1766-1791 

The  Journal  of  Lady 
Mary  Coke,  5  vols., 
privately  printed 

233 

LIST  OF  DIARIES 

Minor    Diaries — continued. 


Name  of  Diarist. 


Occupation. 


James    Harris, 
Earl     of 
Malmesbury 


Diplomatist 


Date  of 
Diary. 


Source. 


1767-1820 


Thomas  Gray     .     Poet 


Strother 


The    Ladies     of 
Llangollen 


Shop  assistant 


1769 


1784-1785 


1785-1788 


Elizabeth,   Lady 
Holland 


Thomas  Green 


Critic 


1701-1811 


1796-1811 


Sir  George  Rooke 
Peter  Oliver  .     . 
Thomas  Gyll 
Mrs.  Powys  .     . 


Short  Notices 

1700-1703 
1781-1821 
1748-1778 
1756-1808 


Admiral 

Doctor 

Lawyer        and 
antiquary 


Diaries  and  Corre- 
spondence of  the  1st 
Earl  of  Mahnes- 
hury,  ed.  by  his 
grandson,  4  vols., 
1844 

Tour  in  the  Lake 
District.  Works  of 
Thomas  Gray,  ed. 
by  E.  Gosse,  vol. 
I,  1884 

Strother' s  Diary,  ed. 
by  Csesar  Caine, 
Brit.  Mus.  Eg. 
2479 

Lady  Eleanor  But- 
ler's Diary,  original 
MS.  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  Marquis 
of  Ormonde.  The 
Swan  and  Her 
Friends,  by  E.  V. 
Lucas,  Chap.  XIII 

The  Journal  of 
Elizabeth,  Lady 
Holland,  ed.  by  the 
Earl  of  Ilchester, 
2  vols.,  1909 
The  Diary  of  a  Lover 
of  Literature,  1803, 
and  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  1834- 
1838 


Navy    Records 

Societj^  1897 
Brit.   Museum    Eg. 

MS.  2674 
Surtees  Society,  vol. 

118 
Passages    from     the 

Diaries     of     Mrs. 

Powys,      ed.       by 

Emily    Climenson, 

1899 


49 


Page. 


234 


236 


237 


241 


246 


249 


251 

252 
252 


252 


50 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 

NINETEENTH   CENTURY 


Name  of  Diarist. 


B.  R.  Haydon     . 

Lord  Byron   . 
Charles  Greville 


William  Cobbett 
Victoria     .     .     . 


Caroline  Fox 


General  Gordon. 


Occupation. 


Painter 


Poet 


aerk     of 
Council 


the 


Politician 
author 

Queen  . 


and 


Soldier 


Date  of 
Diary. 


1786-1846 


1813-1814 

1816 

1821 
1814-1860 


1821-1832 


1832-1840 

1848-1882 


1834-1871 


1884 


Source. 


General  Dyott 


Frances,    Lady 
Shelley 


Charles    Abbot, 
Lord  Colchester 


Soldier 


Minor  Diaries 


1781-1845 


Speaker  of  the 
House  of  Com- 
mons 


1787-1813 


1795-1829 


Life  of  B.  R.  Hay- 
don, ed.  by  Tom 
Taylor,  3  vols., 
1853 

Life  of  Byron,  by 
Tom  Moore,  1832 

The  Greville  Me- 
moirs, ed.  by  H. 
Reeve,  8  vols., 
1875,  1885,  1887. 
Miscellanies  of  the 
Philobiblion  So- 
ciety, IX,  1865 

Cobbett' 8  Rural  Rides, 
ed.  by  Pitt  Cobbett, 
1893 

The  Girlhood  of 
Queen  Victoria,  ed. 
by  Viscount  Esher, 
1912.  Leaves  from 
a  Journal  of  our 
Life  in  the  High- 
lands, 1862.  More 
Leaves,  1883 

Journals  and  Letters 
of  Caroline  Fox, 
ed.  by  H.  N.  Pym, 
1882 

Journals  of  General 
Gordon  at  Khar- 
toum, ed.  by  A.  E. 
Hake,  1885 


Dyott' s  Diary,  ed.  by 
R.  W.  Jefferey, 
1907 

The  Diary  of  Frances, 
Lady   Shelley,    ed. 
by  R.  Edgcumbe, 
1912 

Diary    and   Corres- 
pondence of  Charles 
Abbot,    Lord    Col- 
chester,    3     vols., 
1861 


Page. 


LIST  OF  DIARIES 

MiNOB  DiABEES — continued. 


51 


Name  of  Diarist. 


Elizabeth  Fry 


Occupation. 


George  Rose 


Lady  Nugent 


Sir    George 
Jackson 


Henry  Martyn 


Thomas  Creevey 


Lady   Charlotte 
Bury 


Lieutenant 
Swabey 


Henry    Crabb 
Robinson 


Mary  Shelley      . 


Sir    George 
Cockbum 


Date  of 
Diary. 


Member  of  Par- 
liament 


Source. 


Page. 


Diplomatist     .      1801-1816 


Missionary. 


Mamber  of  Par- 
liament 

Lady  in  waiting 
and  novelist 


Soldier 


1803-1812 

'  1809-1818 
1810-1820 

1811-1813  i 


Barrister 


Admiral 


•  • 


1797-1845  Memoir  of  the  Life 
of  Elizabeth  Fry, 
ed.  by  her  two 
daughters,  2  vols., 
1847  321 

1800-1811  I  George  Rose,  Diaries 
and  Correspondence, 
ed.  by  L.  V,  Har- 
,     court,  1860  327 

1801-1814    Lady  Nugent' s  Diary, 
Jamaica  One  Hun- 
dred    Years    Ago, 
ed.  by  F.  Cundell, 
1907  328 

Diaries  and  Letters 
of  Sir  G.  Jackson, 
ed.  by  Lady  Jack- 
son, 4  vols.,  1872       331 
Journals  and  Letters 
cftheBev.  H.  Mar- 
tyn, ed.  by  Rev.  S. 
Wilberforce,  1839    j  332 
The  Creevey  Papers, 
ed.  by  Sir  Herbert  j 
Maxwell,  1903  335 

The  Diary  of  a 
Lady  in  Waiting, 
ed.  by  A.  Francis^ 
Steuart,  1908  337 

!  Lt.  Swabey' s  Diary, 
ed.  by  Colonel  F.  A. 
Whingates,  1895 
(Royal  United  Ser- 
vice Institution 
Library)  342 

Diary  and  Corre- 
spondence of  Henry 
Crabb  Robinson,  ed. 
by  T.  Sadler,  3 
vols.,  1869  344 

Life  and  Letters  of 
Mary  Woljstone- 
craft  Shelley,  by 
Mrs.  Julian  Mar- 
shall, 1889  I  349 
Napoleon's  Last  Voy-  \ 
age,  1888                   j  352 


1811-1867 


1814r-1840 


1815 


52 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 


Minor  Diaries — contintted. 


Name  of  Diarist. 

Occupation. 

Date  of 
Diary. 

Source. 

Page. 

Lady  Malcolm    . 

— 

1816 

A     Diary     of     St. 
Helena,  ed  by  Sir 
A.  Wilson,  1899 

354 

Henry  Matthews 

Lawyer 

1817-1819 

The    Diary    of    an 
Invalid,  by  Henry 
Matthews,  1819 

355 

Henry    Fynes 

Member  of  Par- 

1819-1852 

Literary  Remains  of 

Clinton 

liament 

Henry  Fynes  Clin- 
ton,  ed.    by   C.   J. 
Fynes          Clinton, 
1854 

357 

Mary  Browne     . 

1821 

The  Diary  of  a  Girl 
in  France  in  1821, 
1905 

362 

Richard  Hurrell 

Clergyman 

1826-1828 

Eeynains  of  Richard 

Froude 

Hurrell  Froude,   2 

— 

vols.,  1837 

363 

W.  E.  Gladstone 

Statesman 

1826-1896 

Life     of     Gladstone, 
J.  Morley,  3  vols., 
1903. 

364 

Thomas  Raikes . 

Clubman   . 

1831-1847 

A     Portion    of    the 
Journal  of  Thomas 
Raikes,     3     vols., 
1856 

369 

Fanny  Kemble 

Actress . 

1832-1833 

Journal  by  Frances 

(Mrs.  Butler) 

Anne     Butler,      2 
vols.,  1835 

371 

Henry  Greville    . 

Diplomatist  and 
coxu'tier 

1832-1872 

Leaves      from      the 
Diary     of     Henry 
Greville,  ed.  by  the 
Coimtess  of  Straf- 
ford, 1883-1893-4, 
6  vols. 

374 

Edward  Pease    . 

Railway   pro- 
jector 

1838-1857 

The  Diaries  of  Ed- 
ward Pease,  ed.  by 
Alfred  Pease,  1907 

376 

William  Goodall 

Hmitsman 

1843-1859 

The   History   of  the 
Belvoir    Hunt,    by 
Dale 

379 

H.  E.  Manning    . 

Cardinal     . 

1844-1890 

Life      of      Cardinal 
Manning,  by  E.  S. 
Purcell,     2    vols., 
1896 

380 

Samuel 

Bishop 

1830-1873 

Life  of  Samuel  Wil- 

Wilberforce 

berforce,  by  A.  R. 
Ashwell,    3    vols., 
1880 

385 

I 


LIST  OF  DIARIES 


58 


Minor  Diabies — continued. 


Name  of  Diarist. 

Occupation. 

Date  of 
Diary. 

Source. 

Page. 

Lord  Macaulay 

Historian   . 

1838-1859 

Life   and   Letters  of 
Lord  Macaulay,  G. 
Trevelyan,  2  vols. 
1876 

389 

George   Howard, 

Statesman 

1843-1864 

Extracts  from  Jour- 

Earl of  Carlisle 

nals  of  the  Earl  of 
Carlisle   (privately 

Nassau  Senior 

Economist 

1848-1858 

printed) 
Journals    of    Visits 
to    Ireland,    1852- 
1862;      to    France 
and    Italy,     1848- 
1852;     to    Turkey 
and  Greece,  1857-8 

393 

396 

Colonel    A. 
Ponsonby 

Soldier 

1849-1868 

Original  manuscript 
in  the  possession  of 
Maj.- General        J. 

Lieut. -General 

Soldier 

1854-1855 

Ponsonby 
Crimean  Diary  and 

397 

Sir  Charles 

Letters  of  Gen.  Sir 

Windham 

C.    Windham,    ed. 
by  Maj.  H.  Pearse, 
1897 

400 

George  Eliot 

Novelist 

1855-1877 

George  Eliot's    Life, 
by    G.    W.    Cross, 

John  Addington 

Author 

1860-1888 

1884,  2  vols. 
John  Addington  Sy- 

403 

Symonds 

monds,  by  Horatio 

Browne,  2  vols.  1895 

407 

Sir  G.  Graham  . 

Soldier       .      .  f 
1 

1860 

1882 

Lt.-Gen.   Sir   Gerald 
Graham,    by    Col. 

1885 

R.  H.  Vetch,  1901 

411 

William  Cory      . 

Poet  and  school- 
master 

1863-1873 

Letters  and  Journals 
of    W.    Cory,    ar- 
ranged      by       F. 
Warre  Cornish,  1897 

412 

James 

Hannington 

Bishop 

1863-1885 

James    Hannington, 
by  E.  C.  Dawson, 
1887 

410 

Captain  Eyre 

Soldier 

1899-1901 

Boer   War  Diary  of 

Lloyd 

Capt.   T.   H.   Eyre 
Lloyd,       privately 
printed,  1905 

418 

54 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 


Short  Noa?iCES 


Name  of  Diarist. 

Occupation. 

Date  of 
Diary. 

Source. 

Page. 

Miss  Berry    .     . 

— 

1783-1848 

Journals  and  Corre- 
spondence of  Miss 
Berry,  ed.  by  Lady 
T.  Lewis,  3  vols., 
1865 

420 

Joseph  Hunter 

Antiquary 

1806 

Brit.  Museum  Add. 
MS.  24,441 

421 

The  Marquis    of 

Governor-Gen- 

1813-1818 

The  Private  Journals 

Hastings 

eral  of  India 

of  the  Marquess  of 
Hastings,     ed     by 
the  Marchioness  of 
Bute,  1858 

421 

Thomas  Grey 

— 

1826 

Original  MS. 

422 

Sir    Mountstuart 

Member      of 

1851-1901 

Diaries    of   Sir    M. 

Grant-Duff 

Parliament, 

Ch-ant  -  Duff,       14 

Governor  of 

vols. 

422 

Madras 

J.  E.  Denison, 

Speaker  of  the 

■  1857-1872 

The  Diary  of  John 

Viscount 

House  of  Com- 

Evelyn   Denison, 

Ossington 

mons 

1900 

423 

TWENTIETH   CENTURY 


Lord    Bernard 
Gordon  -  L  ennox 


Arthur    Graeme 

West 
W.     N.     P. 

Barbellion 


Soldier 


Soldier 

Musevim   Assis- 
tant 


1914 


1915-1917 


1903-1919 


Original  MS.  in  the 
possession  of  the 
Duke  of  Richmond 
and  Gordon 

The  Diary  of  a  Dead 
Officer,  1920 

The  Journal  of  a 
Disappointed  Man, 
1919.  •  A  Last 
Diary,     1921 


424 

428 

432 


An  alphabetical  list  of  all  diaries  mentioned  in  the  volimie  will  be  foimd  in 
the  Index. 

In  the  diary  extracts  quoted  in  the  reviews  round  brackets  denote  paren- 
theses written  by  the  diarists  themselves,  and  square  brackets  explanations 
and  notes  which  have  been  inserted. 


SIXTEENTH  CENTURY 


EDWARD  VI 

ONLY  two  diaries  of  English  sovereigns  are  available; 
and  no  two  other  diaries  in  this  collection  can  present  a 
greater  contrast.  In  due  course  we  shall  deal  with  the 
diary  of  the  Queen  who  Hved  till  she  was  82.  We  now  must 
examine  the  diary  of  the  King  who  died  when  he  was  16. 

Although  the  diary  is  all  in  Edward's  handwriting,  the  fact 
that  this  sedate,  concise  and  dignified  epitome  of  events  should 
have  been  recorded  by  a  boy  who  was  under  12  years  old  when 
he  began  to  write  it  naturally  led  to  some  doubt  being  cast  on  its 
absolute  authenticity.  Mr.  J.  G.  Nichols,  who  was  responsible 
for  the  full  annotated  edition  of  the  diary  which  appeared  in 
1857,  agrees  with  Burnet,  the  seventeenth-century  historian, 
that,  apart  from  the  introductory  summary,  it  was  not  written 
from  dictation,  but  was  entirely  his  own.  Some  inaccuracies 
with  regard  to  dates  seem  to  support  this  opinion.  Hallam  also 
comes  to  the  same  conclusion,  although  he  would  like  it  not  to  be 
genuine  because  of  the  off-hand  way  in  which  Edward  refers  to 
the  execution  of  his  uncles  and  the  treatment  of  his  sister.  "  But," 
he  concludes,  "he  had,  I  suspect,  too  much  Tudor  blood."  We 
have  also  to  bear  in  mind  that  there  is  plenty  of  contemporary 
evidence  of  the  boy  King's  extraordinary  erudition. 

So  we  may  take  it  that  this  pithy  and  restrained  recital  of 
events  was  written  by  a  boy  between  the  ages  of  11  and  14.  The 
diary  does  not  contain  any  definite  expression  of  opinion  or  any 
personal  jottings,  nevertheless  in  its  style  the  compendious  and 
succinct  narrative  of  events  is  by  no  means  colourless  or  imper- 
sonal. 

There  is  an  introductory  record  of  events  from  his  birth  (1537) 
to  his  accession ;  the  burial  of  Henry  VIII,  his  own  coronation^ 
the  war  with  Scotland,  the  war  with  France,  and  the  suppression 
of  Kett's  rebellion.     In  March,  1549,  the  actual  diary  begins  with 

55 


56  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

frequent  brief  and  sometimes  almost  daily  entries.  He  records 
his  movements,  official  appointments,  royal  proclamations,  foreign 
events,  diplomatic  negotiations,  trials,  and  executions  and  his 
pastimes.  The  elaboration  of  the  tilting  jousts  and  bear-bating 
is  the  only  boyish  feature  in  the  diary.  While  there  is  nothing 
in  the  nature  of  comment  on  events,  there  is  a  conscientious 
exactness  and  curiously  mature  and  distinctly  regal  tone  in  the 
entries  which  is  significant.  ("  Me  "  is  always  written  with  a 
capital  M.) 

The  following  extracts  have  been  taken  from  the  Clarendon 
Historical  Society's  reprint  in  which  the  original  spelling  has  been 
modernized.  We  will  take  first  his  intercourse  and  negotiation 
with  the  French  Ambassadors. 

1549.  May  25.  The  Ambassadors  came  to  the  Court  where  they  saw  Me 
take  the  oath  for  the  Acceptation  of  the  Treaty  and  afterwards  dined  with 
Me  ;  and  after  dinner  saw  a  Pastime  of  ten  against  ten  at  the  Ridg  whereof 
on  the  one  side  were  the  Duke  of  Sxifiolk,  the  Vicedam,  the  Lord  Lisle,  and 
eeven  other  gentlemen  apparell'd  in  yellow.  On  the  other  the  Lord  Strange, 
Monsieur  Henandoy  and  eight  other  in  blue. 

May  29.  The  Ambassadors  had  a  fair  supper  made  them  by  the  Duke  of 
Somerset  and  afterwards  went  into  the  Thames  and  saw  both  the  Bear  hunted 
in  the  River  and  also  Wildfire  cast  out  of  Boats  and  many  pretty  conceits. 

In  July  in  the  following  year  he  records  with  great  clearness 
a  conversation  he  has  with  the  French  Ambassador  in  an  "  Inner 
Chamber,"  and  ends  up  : 

I  assured  him  That  I  thank  him  for  his  order  and  also  his  Love,  etc.,  and 
I  should  show  like  love  in  all  points.  For  Rumours,  they  were  not  always  to 
be  believed  and  that  I  did  sometinaes  provide  for  the  worst  bvit  never  did  any 
harm  upon  their  hearing.  For  Ministers,  I  said  I  would  rather  appease  these 
controversies  by  words  than  do  anything  by  force. 

July  26.  Monsieur  le  Mareschale  dined  with  Me.  After  dinner  saw  the 
strength  of  the  English  archers.  After  he  had  done  so  at  his  departure  I 
gave  him  a  Diamond  from  my  finger  worth  by  estimation  £150  both  for  Pains 
and  also  for  My  memory.     Then  he  took  his  leave. 

After  a  careful  summary  of  a  long  diplomatic  commimication 
to  the  Emperor,  he  adds,  "  The  reasonings  be  in  my  desk." 

Edward's  unrelenting  adherence  to  Protestantism  is  apparent 
in  many  of  the  entries,  but  in  none  more  than  those  which  relate 
to  his  sister  Mary. 

March  18.  The  Lady  Mary  my  sister  came  to  me  to  Westminster  where 
after  Salutations  she  was  called  with  my  Council  into  a  Chamber ;  where 
was  declared  how  long  I  had  suffered  her  Mass  in  hope  of  her  reconciliation  and 


EDWARD   VI  57 

how  now  being  no  hope  which  I  perceived  by  her  Letters,  except  I  saw  some 
short  amendment  I  could  not  bear  it.  She  answered  That  her  Soul  was  God's 
and  her  Faith  she  would  not  change  nor  dissemble  her  Opinion  with  contrary 
doings.  It  was  said  I  constrained  not  her  Faith  but  willed  her  not  as  a  King 
to  Rule  but  as  a  subject  to  obey  ;  and  that  her  example  might  breed  too  much 
inconvenience. 

April  10.  Mr.  Wotton  had  his  Instructions  made  to  do  withal  to  the 
Emperor  to  be  as  Ambassador  Legier  in  Mr.  Morison's  place  as  to  declare  this 
Resolution  that  if  the  Emperor  would  sufier  my  Ambassador  with  him  to 
use  his  service  then  I  would  his  ;  if  he  would  not  stiffer  Mine  I  would  not 
suffer  his.  Likewise  my  sister  was  my  Subject  and  should  use  my  Service 
appointed  by  Act  of  Parliament. 

Jime  22.     The  Lady  Mary  sent  Letters  to  the  Coimcil  marveUing  at  the'"^ 
Imprisonment  of    Dr.  Mallet  her  Chaplain  for  saying  of    Mass  before  her 
houshold  seeing  it  was  promised  the  Emperors  Ambassadour  she  should  not 
be  molested  in  Religion  but  that  she  and  her  Houshold  should  have  the  Mass 
said  before  them  continually.  y 

Aug.  29.  Certain  Pinaces  were  prepared  to  see  that  there  should  be  no 
conveyance  over  sea  of  the  Lady  Mary  secretly  done.  Also  appointed  that 
the  Lord  Chancellor,  Lord  Chamberlain,  the  Vice  Chamberlain  and  the  Secre- 
tary Petre  should  see  by  all  means  they  could  whether  she  used  the  Mass  ; 
and  if  she  did  that  the  Laws  should  be  executed  on  her  chaplains.  Also  that 
when  I  came  from  this  Progress  to  Hampton  Court  or  Westminster  both  my 
sisters  should  be  with  Me  till  fm-ther  Orders  were  taken  for  this  purpose. 

No  regrets  are  expressed  with  regard  to  the  trial  and  execution 
of  Somerset,  and  when  anyone  is  "  condemned  to  the  Fire  "  he 
notes  it  without  comment.  His  supposed  compassion  for  Joan 
of  Kent  is  not  expressed  in  the  diary,  in  which  her  fate  is  simply 
related  in  the  following  words  ; 

May  2.  Joan  Boacher  otherwise  called  Joan  of  Kent  was  biu^t  for 
liolding  that  Christ  was  not  Incarnate  of  the  Virgin  Mary ;  being  condemned 
the  year  before  but  kept  in  hope  of  Conversion  and  the  30th  of  April  the 
Bishop  of  London  and  the  Bishop  of  Ely  were  to  persuade  her  but  she  with- 
stood them  and  reviled  the  Preacher  that  preached  at  her  Death. 

He  gives  an  interesting  description  of  the  funeral  of  Martin^ 
Bucer,  the  well-known  Protestant   divine,  whose  body  in  Queen 
Mary's  reign  was  exhumed  and  burnt. 

1550.  Feb.  28.  The  learned  man  Bucerus  died  at  Cambridge  who  was  two 
days  after  buried  in  St.  Mary's  Church  at  Cambridge ;  All  the  whole  Univer- 
sity with  the  whole  town  bringing  him  to  the  Grave  to  the  number  of  3,000 
persons.  Also  there  was  an  oration  of  Mr.  Haddon  made  very  eloquently  at 
his  death  and  a  sermon  of  (Dr.  Parker)  after  that  Master  Redman  made  a 
third  sermon  ;  which  three  sermons  made  the  People  wonderfully  to  lament  his 
Death.  Last  of  all  all  the  learned  men  of  the  University  made  their  epitaphs 
in  his  praise  laying  them  on  his  grave. 

/ 


58  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

He  notes  his  illness  in  April,  1551.  "  I  fell  sick  of  the  measles 
and  small  pox."  The  diary  concludes  some  time  before  his 
death. 

It  was  used  by  Sir  John  Heywood  in  the  first  history  of  Edward 
VI 's  reign,  which  appeared  shortly  after  the  King's  death.  The 
original  manuscript  formed  part  of  the  Cottonian  Library  now  in 
the  British  Museum. 


HENRY  MACHYN 

THE  diary  of  Henry  Machyn  extends  over  a  period  of 
thirteen  years  from  1550  to  1563.  He  was  an  undertaker 
or  furnisher  of  funeral  trappings  resident  in  London.  The 
diary  is  largely  taken  up  with  elaborate  accounts  of  funerals,  but  he 
also  describes  pageants,  revels,  processions,  proclamations,  trials 
and  punishments.  The  latter  occur  with  very  great  frequency 
during  Queen  Mary's  reign.  Of  himself  and  his  opinions  he  says 
practically  nothing.  On  the  few  occasions  when  he  mentions 
himself  he  refers  to  himself  in  the  third  person.  Living  as  he 
did  in  the  reigns  of  Edward  VI,  Mary  and  Ehzabeth,  he  wit- 
nessed extreme  rehgious  changes.  His  sympathies  were  evi- 
dently inclined  to  the  old  form  of  worship  which  in  its  elaborate 
ceremonial  gave  a  better  chance  to  the  craft  by  which  he  gained 
his  hvelihood.  He  mentions  the  preachers  at  St.  Paul's  Cross 
and  at  the  Court,  and  elsewhere,  and  once  or  twice  he  comments 
on  the  weather.  The  entries  are  not  regular  but  frequent,  and 
the  diary  is  as  impersonal  as  a  diary  can  be.  The  spelling 
is  so  bad  as  at  times  to  be  unintelhgible ;  the  extracts  will, 
therefore,  be  transcribed  into  modern  speUing.  But  an  instance 
of  Machjoi's  own  speUing  may  first  be  given.  The  entry  records 
the  arraignment  of  Sir  Thomas  Arundell  in  the  reign  of  Edward 
VI. 

The  XXVII  day  of  Januarii  was  reyned  Sir  Thomas  Arundell  knyght  and 
so  the  quest  cold  nott  fynd  ym  tyll  the  morow  after  and  so  he  whent  to  the 
Towre  agayn  and  then  the  quest  wher  shutt  up  tyll  the  morrow  with-owt  mett 
or  drynke  or  candylle  or  fyre  and  on  the  morow  he  cam  a-gayne  and  the  quest 
quytt  ym  of  tresun  and  cast  hym  of  felony  to  be  hangyd. 

The  very  full  descriptions  of  funerals  are  filled  with  technical 
terms  and  heraldic  expressions.     This  being  his  main  interest, 


HENRY  MACHYN  59 

they  recur  on  very  many  pages  throughout  the  diary.     It  will 
suffice  to  give  one  example. 

Edward  VI  Funeral. 

1553.  The  VIII  day  of  Augiist  was  buried  the  noble  King  Edward  VI ; 
and  at  his  burying  was  the  greatest  mourning  (mone)  made  for  him  of  his 
death  as  ever  was  heard  or  seen  both  of  all  sorts  of  people  weeping  and  lament- 
ing ;  and  first  of  all  went  a  great  company  of  children  in  their  surplices  and 
clerks  singing  and  then  his  father's  bedeman  and  then  ii  heralds  and  then  a 
standard  with  a  dragon  and  then  a  great  number  of  his  servants  in  black  and 
then  another  standard  with  a  white  greyhound  and  then  after  a  great  number 
of  his  officers  and  after  them  comes  more  heralds  and  then  a  standard  with  the 
head  officer  of  his  house  ;  and  then  heralds,  Norroy  bore  the  helmet  and  the 
crest  on  horseback  and  then  his  great  banner  of  arms  in  embroidery  and  with 
divers  other  banners  and  then  came  riding  Master  Clarenceaux  with  his  target 
with  his  garter  and  his  sword  gorgeously  and  rich,  and  after  Garter  with  his 
coat  armour  in  embroidery  and  then  more  heralds  of  arms  ;  and  then  came 
the  chariot  with  great  horses  draped  with  velvet  to  the  ground  and  every 
horse  having  a  man  on  his  back  in  black  and  every  one  bearing  a  banner  roll 
of  divers  kings  arms  and  with  scutcheons  on  their  horses  and  then  the  chariot 
covered  with  cloth  of  gold  and  on  the  chariot  lay  a  picture  lying  "  recheussly  " 
with  a  crown  of  gold  and  a  great  coUar  and  his  sceptre  in  his  hand  lying  in  hia 
robes  and  the  garter  about  his  leg  and  a  coat  in  embroidery  of  gold  ;  about 
the  corpse  were  borne  four  banners,  a  banner  of  the  order  another  of  the  red 
rose  another  of  Queen  Jane  another  of  the  queen's  mother.  After  him  went 
a  goodly  horse  covered  with  cloth  of  gold  unto  the  ground  and  the  master  of 
the  horse  with  a  man  of  arms  in  armour  which  was  offered  both  the  man  and 
the  horse.  There  was  set  up  a  goodly  hearse  in  Westminster  Abbey  with 
baimer  rolls  and  pensells  and  hung  with  velvet  about. 

A  couple  of  instances  may  be  given  of  other  events.     The  visit 
of  "  the  old  Quyne  of  Schottes  "  to  London  in  1551 : 

Then  came  the  Queen  of  Scots  and  all  our  ladies  and  her  gentlewomen  and 
our  gentlewomen  to  the  number  of  100  ;  and  there  was  sent  her  many  great 
gifts  by  the  mayor  and  aldermen  as  beefs,  muttons,  veals,  swines,  bread, 
wild  foul,  wine,  beer,  spices  and  all  things  and  quails,  sturgeon,  wood,  and  coals 
and  salmons  by  divers  men. 

A  May  game  in  1555 : 

The  same  day  was  a  good  May  game  at  Westminster  as  has  been  seen  with 
giants,  morris  pikes,  guns  and  drums  and  devils  and  three  morris  dances  and 
bagpipes  and  viols  and  many  disguised  and  the  lord  and  the  lady  of  the  May 
rode  gorgeously  with  minstrels  divers  playing. 

The  punishments  he  records  occur  in  the  earlier  part  of  the 
diary  with  great  frequency.  But  even  executions  he  only  de- 
scribes from  the  ceremonial  point  of  view.  Latimer's  and  Ridley's 
burning  is  noted,  but  with  no  further  comment  than  "  they  were 
some  time  great  preachers  as  ever  was;  and  at  their  burning 
did  preach  doctor  Smyth,"     In  one  entry  in  1554  he  records  the 


60  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

hanging  and  quartering  of  no  less  than  fifty-seven  people  in  different 
parts  of  London.  Almost  consecutive  extracts  may  be  given 
showing  how  common  these  excessive  punishments  were  in  Queen 
Mary's  reign. 

1555.  The  6th  day  of  July  rode  to  Tybivrn  to  be  hanged  3  men  and  one 
drawn  upon  a  hurdle. 

The  8th  day  of  July  were  3  more  delivered  out  of  Newgate  and  sent  into 
the  country  to  be  burned  for  heretics. 

The  12th  day  of  July  was  burned  at  Canterbury  4  men  for  heresy  2  priests 
and  2  lajrmen. 

The  20th  day  of  July  was  carried  to  the  Tower  in  the  morning  early  4  men. 

The  2nd  day  of  August  was  a  shoemaker  burned  at  St.  Edmundsbury  for 
heresy. 

The  8th  day  of  August  between  4  and  5  in  the  morning  was  a  prisoner 
delivered  unto  the  sheriff  of  Middlesex  to  be  carried  to  Uxbridge  to  be  btu'ned. 

Machyn  belonged  to  the  Merchant  Taylors  and  he  mentions  the 
Company  several  times.  He  notes  very  often  the  names  of 
preachers,  but  makes  no  remarks  about  the  sermons.  All  pro- 
clamations are  duly  set  down. 

The  only  personal  references  to  himself  are  :  Two  occasions  on 
which  he  mentions  his  birthday,  not  however  on  the  same  date, 
nor  does  the  age  tally.  Such  trivialities  were  beneath  the  notice 
of  one  who  was  occupied  with  hearses  and  scutcheons  and  banners 
and  mantles.  On  the  16th  of  May,  1554,  he  makes  himself 
out  to  be  56,  and  on  May  20th,  1562,  he  says  he  is  63  ;  on  another 
occasion  he  records  the  birth  of  "  a  whenche,"  afterwards  chris- 
tened Katherine,  who  was  probably  a  grandchild  ;  and  further 
the  occasion  on  which  he  had  to  sit  on  the  stool  of  penance  for 
ha^^ng  spread  defamatory  reports  concerning  Veron,  the  French 
Protestant  Minister. 

1561.  The  23  day  of  November  did  preach  at  Paul's  cross  Renagir,  it  was 
St.  Clement's  day,  did  sit  all  the  sermon  time  "  monser  Henry  de  Machjni  " 
for  2  words  the  which  was  told  him  that  Veron  the  Frenchman  the  preacher 
was  taken  with  a  wench,  by  the  reporting  by  one  William  Laurans  .  .  .  the 
which  the  same  Harry  [i.e.  Machyn  himself]  knelt  down  before  Master  Veron 
and  the  bishop  and  they  woiild  not  forgive  him  for  all  his  friends  that  he  had 
worshipful. 

He  gives  an  account  of  an  amusing  but  scandalous  incident  dated 
April  8th,  1554. 

On  the  same  day  somebody  unknown  hanged  a  cat  on  the  gallows  beside 
the  cross  in  Cheap,  habited  in  a  garment  like  to  that  the  priest  wore  that 


JOHN   DEE  61 

said  mass  ;  she  had  a  shaven  crown  and  in  her  fore  feet  held  a  piece  of  paper 
made  round  representing  the  wafer. 

A  few  days  later  (and  as  this  is  our  last  extract  we  will  relapse 
into  Machyn's  own  spelling) : 

was  a  proclamasyon  was  mad  that  what  so  mever  he  wher  that  cold  bryng  forth 
hym  that  dyd  hang  the  catt  on  the  galaus  he  shuld  have  xx  marke  for  ys 
labur. 

Machyn  writes  "  welwet  "  and  "  wacabond,"  early  examples 
of  cockney  pronunciation  which  remind  one  of  Sam  Weller. 

The  diary  is  of  historical  and  antiquarian  interest  because  of 
its  age  and  the  rareness  of  such  complete  descriptions  of  pageants 
of  that  time.  A  diary,  however,  on  the  same  subjects  to-day 
would  be  unreadable. 

The  manuscript  was  one  of  the  volumes  which  suffered  from 
the  fire  of  the  Cottonian  Library,  but  it  was  not  destroyed.  In 
1848  it  was  printed  and  published  with  notes  by  the  Camden 
Society. 


JOHN  DEE 

JOHN  DEE  was  a  magician,  a  necromancer  and  astrologer, 
who  was  consulted  by  queens  and  princes  and  the  nobihty. 
Before  examining  his  diary  some  brief  account  of  his  strange 
career  may  be  given.  He  was  born  in  1527 ;  he  took  up  mathe- 
matics and  astronomy  at  Cambridge,  working  at  times  with  only 
four  hours'  sleep,  and  was  elected  a  Fellow  of  Trinity  College.  He 
also  studied  abroad  in  France  and  Holland,  and  became  celebrated 
as  a  learned  mathematician.  He  was  assigned  a  pension  by 
Edward  VI  in  1551,  but  on  the  accession  of  Mary  he  was  accused 
of  using  enchantments  against  the  Queen's  life,  placed  in  confine- 
ment, and  only  obtained  his  liberty  after  four  years.  He  was 
always  in  favour  with  Queen  Elizabeth  from  the  time  that  he  was 
asked  by  Lord  Dudley  to  name  a  propitious  day  for  her  corona- 
tion. His  home  was  at  Mortlake,  where  the  Queen  on  more  than 
one  occasion  visited  him.  He  travelled  abroad  to  present  a  copy 
of  one  of  his  books  to  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  and  later  again 
to  consult  with  German  physicians  and  astrologers  in  regard  to 
the  illness  of  the  Queen.  Edward  Kelly,  an  apothecary  who  had 
been  convicted  of  forgery  and  lost  both  his  ears  in  the  pillory, 
became  Dee's  friend,  and  together  they  performed  various  incan- 
tations and  maintained  a  frequent  imaginary  intercourse  with 


62  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

spirits.  They  travelled  together  and  stayed  with  Albert  Laski,  a 
Polish  nobleman  who  visited  Dee  when  he  was  in  England.  But 
Dee  quarrelled  with  his  companion  and  returned  home.  During 
his  absence  the  mob,  believing  him  to  be  a  wizard,  had  broken 
into  his  house  and  destroyed  furniture,  books  and  chemical 
apparatus.  In  1595  he  became  warden  of  Manchester  College, 
where  he  stayed  nine  years.  He  died  at  Mortlake  in  1604,  at  the 
age  of  81,  in  the  greatest  poverty.  We  have  the  following  descrip- 
tion of  him  from  Aubrey,  which  seems  to  fit  in  with  the  part  he 
played  :  "  of  very  fair  clear  sanguine  complexion,  with  a  long 
beard  as  white  as  milk — a  very  handsome  man  tall  and  slender. 
He  wore  a  gown  like  an  artists  gowne  with  hanging  sleeves." 

His  diary  covers  the  period  from  1577  to  1600,  although  also 
from  1554  to  1577  there  are  a  few  entries  each  year  consisting  of 
notes  of  nativities  inserted  by  him  at  various  times  when  he  was 
consulted  as  an  astrologer.     For  instance : 

1560.  July  8.  Margaret  Russell  Countess  of  Cumberland  hora  2  min  9 
Exonioe  mane. 

1563.  March  23.  Mr.  William  Fennar  a  meridie  inter  horam  imdecimam 
et  duodecimam  nocte. 

The  diary  does  not  provide  the  amount  of  occult  material  that 
we  should  expect,  as  it  is  taken  up  with  lists  of  visitors,  business 
about  his  property,  weather  reports,  accounts,  the  borrowing  of 
money  and  a  great  deal  about  his  changes  of  servants  and  the 
wages  he  paid  them.  The  servant  problem,  acute  in  all  ages,  was 
no  doubt  specially  anxious  for  a  man  who  was  suspected  of  being 
a  magician. 

I  did  before  Barthilmew  Hikman  pay  Letice  her  full  yere's  wages  ending  the 
7th  day  of  Aprill :  her  wages  being  four  nobles  an  apron  a  payr  of  hose  and 
shoes. 

I  discharged  Letice  of  my  service  and  payd  all  duetyes  untyll  this  day.  I 
gave  her  for  a  month  over  2s.  Qd.  and  for  to  spend  on  the  way  I  gave  her 
2s.  6d. 

Anne  Powell  cam  to  my  service  ;  she  is  to  have  four  nobles  by  the  year  a 
payr  of  hose  and  shoes. 

Jane  (his  wife)  most  desperately  angry  in  respect  her  maydes. 

He  has  frequent  visits  from  celebrated  people : 

The  Erie  of  Lecester,  Mr.  Philip  Sydney,  Mr.  Dyer  came  to  my  house. 

The  Countess  of  Kent  and  the  Coimtess  of  CHmiberland  visited  me  in  the 
afternoon.     The  Lord  WiUoughby  dyned  with  me. 


JOHN  DEE  63 

The  Lady  Walsingham  cam  suddenly  into  my  house  very  freely. 
The  Lord  Albert  Laski  cam  to  me  and  lay  at  my  howse  all  night. 

The  Erie  of  Derby  with  Lady  Gerard  Sir  —  Molyneux  and  his  lady  dawghter 
to  the  Lady  Gerrard,  Master  Hawghton  and  others  cam  suddenly  uppon  me 
after  three  of  the  clok.  I  made  them  a  skoler's  collation  and  it  was  taken 
in  good  part. 

He  also  dines  with  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  the  Archbishop  and  other 
great  people.  No  doubt  he  was  the  fashionable  rage  at  one  time 
owing  to  the  Queen  having  patronized  him.  It  is  known  that  in 
1577  his  services  were  hurriedly  demanded  in  order  to  prevent  the 
mischief  to  Her  Majesty's  person  apprehended  from  a  waxen  image 
of  her  with  a  pin  stuck  through  its  breast  found  in  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields.  We  will  give  a  selection  of  entries  concerning  his  meetings 
with  Queen  Ehzabeth. 

1578.  I  spake  with  the  Quene  hora  quinta  :  I  spake  with  Mr.  Secretary 
Walsingham. 

The  Queen's  Majestic  had  conference  with  me  at  Richmond  inter  9  et  11. 

1580.  The  Queen's  Majestic  cam  from  Rychemond  in  her  coach,  the 
higher  way  of  Mortlake  felde  and  when  she  cam  right  against  the  church  she 
turned  down  toward  my  house  :  and  when  she  was  against  my  garden  in  the 
felde  she  stode  there  a  good  while  and  then  cam  ynto  the  street  at  the  great 
gate  of  the  felde  where  she  espied  me  at  my  doore  making  obeysains  to  her 
Majestic  :  she  beckend  her  hand  for  me  ;  I  cam  to  her  coach  side,  she  speedily 
pulled  off  her  glove  and  gave  me  her  hand  to  kiss  and  to  be  short  asked  me  to 
resort  to  her  court  and  to  give  her  to  wete  when  I  cam  ther  :  hor.  6J  a  meridie. 

The  Queue's  Majestie  to  my  great  comfort  (hora  quinta)  cam  with  her 
trayn  from  the  court  and  at  my  dore  graciously  calling  me  to  her,  on  horsebak, 
exhorted  me  briefly  to  take  my  mother's  death  patiently. 

1583.  The  Quene  lying  at  Richmond  went  to  Mr.  Secretary  Walsingham 
to  dynner  ;  she  coimng  by  my  dore  gratiously  called  me  to  her  and  so  I  went 
to  her  horse  side  as  far  as  where  Mr.  Hudson  dwelt  [the  following  referring  to 
the  Due  d'Anjou  is  in  Greek  characters  which  Dee  uses  occasionally  for  the 
more  secret  entries]  Her  Majestie  asked  me  oboscurely  of  Monsieur's  state  dixi 
biothanatos  erit.  The  Quene  went  from  Richmond  toward  Grenwich  and  at 
her  going  on  horsbak  being  new  up  she  called  for  me  by  Mr.  Rawley  his  putting 
her  in  mynde  and  she  sayd  "  quod  defertur  non  aufertur  "  and  gave  me  her 
right  hand  to  kisse. 

1590.  The  Queue's  Majestie  being  at  Richmond  graciously  sent  for  me. 
I  cam  to  her  at  three  quarters  of  the  clok  afternone  and  she  sayd  she  wold  send 
me  something  to  kepe  Christmas  with. 

The  Quene's  Majestie  called  for  me  at  my  dore  circa  3J  a  meridie  as  she 
passed  by  and  I  met  at  Estshene  gate  when  she  graciously,  putting  down  her 
mask,  did  eay  with  merry  chere  "  I  thank  the  Dee  there  was  never  promisse 


64  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

made  but  it  was  broken  or  kept."     I  uiiderstode  her  Majesty  to  mean  of  the 
hundred  angels  (coins)  she  promised  to  send  me  this  day. 

1594.  Between  6  and  7  after  none  the  Quene  sent  for  me  to  her  in  the 
privy  garden  at  Grenwich  when  I  delivered  in  ^\Titing  the  hevonly  admonition 
and  Her  Majestie  tok  it  thankfully.  Onely  the  Lady  Warwyk  and  Sir  Robert 
Cecil  his  lady  war  in  the  garden  with  Her  Majestie. 

But  royal  favour,  as  he  learned,  is  capricious,  for  Dee  died  In 
great  poverty. 

Controversies  and  disputes  figure  frequently  in  the  diary.  There 
is  Emery's  "  most  unhonest,  hypocriticall  and  devilish  dealings 
and  devises  agaynst  me  "  ;  there  is  Roger  Cook's  "  unseemly 
deahng  "  ;  there  is  "  the  knavery  "  of  Vincent  Murfyn  against 
whom  he  gets  £100  damages  ;  there  are  "  the  nowghty  dealings  " 
of  one  Barnabas,  a  dispute  with  the  Bishop  of  Leightyn,  and 
eventually  he  fell  out  with  his  fellow  astrologer  Edward  Kelly. 
But  they  were  close  friends  for  some  years  and  Kelly's  name 
occurs  very  frequently. 

Mr.  E.  K.  at  nine  of  the  clock  af ternone  sent  for  me  to  his  laboratory  over 
the  gate  to  se  how  he  distilled  sex-icon. 

Mr.  E.  K.  did  disclose  some  accounted  me  frendes  how  untrue  they  were 
[in  Greek  characters]. 

Mr.  K:  put  the  glass  in  dung. 

E.  K.  did  open  the  great  secret  to  me,  God  be  thanked. 

Vidi  divinam  aquam  demonstratione  magnifici  domini  et  amid  mei  inconi- 
parabilis  D.  Ed  Kelei  ante  meridiem  tertia  hora. 

I  gave  Mr.  Ed  Kelly  my  glass  so  highly  and  long  esteemed  of  our  Quene  and 
the  Emperor  Randolph  the  second. 

Mr.  Edward  Kelly  gave  me  the  water  earth  and  all. 

I,  delivered  to  Mr.  Kelly  the  powder,  the  bokes,  the  glas  and  the  bone. 

After  they  parted  Dee  corresponds  with  him  and  refers  to  him 
as  Sir  Edward  Kelly.  A  few  extracts  must  be  given  of  the  more 
mysterious  references  to  rappings,  spirits  and  dreams. 

It  was  the  8th  day  being  Wednesday  hora  noctis  10,  11,  the  strange  noyse  i 
in  my  chamber  of  knocking  and  the  voyce  ten  times  repeted,  somewhat  Uke 
the  shriek  of  an  owle,  but  more  longly  drawn  and  more  softly  as  it  were  in  my 
chamber.     All  the  night  very  strange  knocking  and  rapping  in  my  chamber. 

Barnabas  Saul  lying  in  the  hall  was  strangely  troubled  by  a  spiritual 
creature  about  midnight. 

Robert  Gardner  declared  unto  me  hora  4^  a  certeyn  great  philosophical 


JOHN  DEE  65 

secret,  as  he  termed  it,  of  a  spirituall  creatuer,  and  was  this  day  willed  to  come 
to  me  and  declare  it  which  was  solemnly  done  and  with  common  prayer. 

Robert  Wood  visitted  with  spiritual  creatiores  had  comfort  by  conference. 

^  My  dream  of  being  naked  and  my  skyn  all  overwrought  with  work  like  some 
kmde  of  tuft  mockado  with  crosses  blew  and  red  ;  and  on  my  left  arme  about 
the  arme  in  a  wreath  this  word  I  red — sine  me  nihil  potestis  facere. 

Saturday  night  I  dremed  that  I  was  deade  and  afterwards  my  bowels  wer 
taken  out  I  walked  and  talked  with  diverse  and  among  others  with  the  Lord 
Threserer  who  was  cam  to  my  howse  to  burn  my  bokes  when  I  was  dead  and 
thought  he  loked  sourly  on  me. 

My  terrible  dream  that  Mr.  Kelly  would  by  force  bereave  me  of  my  bokes, 
toward  day  break. 

This  night  I  had  the  vision  and  shew  of  many  bokes  in  my  dreame  and 
among  the  rest  was  one  great  volume  thik  in  large  quarto  new  printed  on  the 
first  page  whereof  as  a  title  in  great  letters  printed  "  Notiis  in  Judaea  Deus." 
Many  other  bokes  methought  I  saw  new  printed  of  very  strange  arguments. 

[In  Greek  characters.]  This  night  my  wife  dreamed  that  one  cam  to  her 
and  touched  her  saying  Mistres  Dee  you  are  conceived  of  child  whose  name 
must  be  Zacharias  be  of  good  chere  he  sal  do  well  as  this  doth. 

We  also  get  this  account  of  a  curious  ceremony  : 

Ann  my  nurse  had  long  byn  tempted  by  a  wicked  spirit  but  this  day  it  was 
evident  how  she  was  possessed  of  him  ...  at  night  I  anoynted  (in  the  name 
of  Jesus)  Ann  Frank  her  brest  with  holy  oyle.  In  the  morning  she  required 
to  be  anoynted  and  I  did  very  devowtly  prepare  myself  and  pray  for  vertue 
and  powr  and  Christ  his  blessing  of  the  oyle  to  the  expulsion  of  the  wycked  : 
and  then  twyse  anoynted  the  wycked  one  did  resest  a  while. 

He  records  quite  a  trivial  incident,  evidently  attaching  to  it 
some  occult  significance : 

The  spider  at  ten  of  the  clok  at  night  suddenly  on  my  desk  and  suddenly 
gon  ;  a  most  rare  one  in  bygnes  and  length  of  feet.  I  was  in  a  great  study 
at  my  desk.  *  ^ 

His  marriage  with  his  second  wife,  Jane  Fromonds,  is  briefly 
noted  in  Latin.  There  are  references  to  her  and  frequently  these 
words  occur  in  Greek  character,  "  Jane  had  them,"  but  it  cannot 
be  said  what  "  them  "  refers  to.  His  children  are  also  mentioned; 
specially  Arthur,  who  on  one  occasion  was  wounded  "  on  his  hed 
by  his  own  wanton  throwing  of  a  brik  bat  upright  and  not  well 
avoyding  the  fall  of  it  agayn  "  ;  and  Theodor,  who  "  had  a  sore 
fall  on  his  mowth  at  mid-day." 

Dr.  Dee  was  naturally  concerned  about  his  own  health  and  there 
are  many  references  to  it  and  to  the  remedies  he  took  ; 


66  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

My  mervaglous  horsnes  and  in  manner  spechelesnes  toke  me,  being  nothing 
at  all  otherwise  sick. 

I  was  very  sick  upon  two  or  thre  sage  leaves  eten  in  the  morning ;  better 
suddenly  at  night ;   when  I  cast  them  up  I  was  weU. 

I  had  on  the  Sunday  afternoon  the  cramp  most  extremely  in  the  very  centre 
of  the  calves  of  both  my  legs  and  in  the  place  where  I  had  the  suddejm  grief 
on  Bartilmew  even  last  I  had  payn,  so  intoUerable  as  if  the  vaynes  or  artheries 
wold  have  broken  by  extreme  stretching  or  how  else  I  cannot  tell.  The  payn 
lasted  about  half  a  quater  of  an  hour.     I  took  my  purgation  of  six  grayns. 

A  great  fit  of  the  stone  in  my  left  kydney  ;  all  day  I  could  do  but  three  or 
four  drops  of  water  but  I  drunk  a  draught  of  white  wyne  and  salet  oyle  and 
after  that  crab's  eyes  in  powder  with  the  bone  in  the  carps  head  and  abowt 
four  of  the  clok  I  did  eat  tosted  cake  buttered  and  with  sugar  and  nutmeg  on 
it  and  drunk  two  great  draughts  of  ale  with  it  and  I  voyded  within  an  howr 
much  water  and  a  stone  as  big  as  an  Alexander  seed.     God  be  thanked. 

In  the  morning  began  my  hed  to  ake  and  be  hevy  more  than  of  late  and  had 
some  wambling  in  my  stomach.     I  had  broken  my  fast  with  sugar  sopps. 

Much  more  is  known  of  Dr.  Dee  than  what  is  contained  in  this 
diary.  He  wrote  nearly  eighty  different  works,  but  most  of  them 
were  not  printed.  •  He  was  very  much  interested  in  the  reform  of 
the  Calendar  and  refers  to  it  several  times  in  his  diary.  In  his 
Compendious  Rehearsal  he  gives  a  full  account  of  his  career,  but 
this  was  written  for  the  official  eye.  As  will  be  seen,  he  was 
religious  but  intensely  superstitious,  and  he  had  an  intellectual 
and  scientific  mind  which  was  obscured  by  his  belief  in  the  occult. 

The  diary  was  discovered  in  the  library  of  the  Ashmolean 
Museum  at  Oxford  written  in  a  small  illegible  hand  on  the  margins 
of  old  almanacs.  It  was  printed;  together  with  the  catalogue  he 
made  of  his  Library  Manuscripts,  by  the  Camden  Society  (edited 
by  J.  O.  HaUiwell)  in  1842.  j 


SIR  FRANCIS  WALSINGHAM 

THE  high  offices  held  by  Sir  Francis  Walsinghara  under 
Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  important  negotiations  with 
which  he  was  entrusted  would  lead  one  to  suppose  that, 
if  he  kept  a  diary  at  all,  it  would  be  one  of  particular  interest. 
It  is  a  disappointment,  therefore,  that  the  Journal  which  exists 
consists  of  nothing  more  than  notices  of  his  movements,  the 
Queen's  movements  when  he  is  in  England,  and  occasionally  of 
other  events,  with  memoranda  for  each  day  of  all  letters  received 
and  sent. 


I 


SIR  FRANCIS   WALSINGHAM  67 

A  peculiar  feature  of  the  diary  is  that,  although  the  entries  are 
in  the  first  person,  the  manuscript  is  not  in  Walsingham's  own 
hand  but  in  that  of  his  secretary. 

The  diary  begins  in  December,  1570,  when  Walsingham,  who 
^  had  been  already  sent  as  ambassador  to  France  to  assist  in  nego- 
tiating an  accord  between  Charles  IX  and  the  Huguenots,  had 
been  again  dispatched  thither  as  resident  ambassador,  and  part 
of  his  instructions  was  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  marriage  of  the 
Queen  with  the  Duke  of  Anjou.  This  is  interesting,  but  all  we 
get  in  the  Journal  is  : 

I  went  to  the  Palais  and  there  had  audience  at  Queen  Mother's  handes. 
I  went  to  Gallion  and  there  had  audience  of  Queen  Mother  and  Monsieur 

or  equally  brief  entries  of  the  same  description. 

The  last  entries  are  dated  April,  1583,  but  there  are  several 
breaks,  one  of  nearly  two  years  between  1578  and  1580.  It  is 
unnecessary  to  quote  the  entries  as  they  are  seldom  more  than 
one  hne  and  they  tell  us  practically  nothing  of  what  Walsingham 
was  doing  and  absolutely  nothing  of  what  Walsingham  was  hke. 

The  very  first  entry  is  in  peculiar  grammar ; 

Sunday  Dec.  3.     That  the  Queene  of  Scotes  shotdde  be  verie  sycke. 

But  on  Monday  Walsingham  corrected  his  secretary  and  no  doubt 
instructed  him  that  he  did  not  want  the  diary  kept  in  the  oratio 
ohliqua. 

Great  events  are  suggested,  but  never  related  : 

I  wente  unto  the  Courte  and  had  conference  with  my  Lord  of  Lecestre 
and  Mr.  Secretarie  about  a  matter  of  great  importance. 

This  is  how  he  records  a  journey : 

Monday  8.     I  departed  from  Abbeville  and  came  to  bed  at  Piquenel. 

Tuesday  9.     I  departed  from  Piquenel  and  came  to  bed  at  Amiens. 
And  so  on  till  he  gets  to  Paris. 

Apart  from  his  official  duties,  the  only  entry  which  suggests 
■j  anything  in  the  least  domestic  seems  to  refer  to  the  engagement 
'  of  a  coachman. 

Oct.  21.     Entertaynment  of  a  new  cochier. 

Just  to  illustrate  the  brief  memorandum  style  of  the  diary, 
some  consecutive  entries  may  be  given  in  February,  1581. 


68  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Thursday  1.     The  Court  removed  to  Rochester.     Monsieur  departed. 

Friday  2.     I  went  to  Rochester. 

Saturday  3.  Hir  Majestic  removed  to  Sittingboume.  I  went  to  Mr.  Cromar's 
to  bed. 

Monday  5.  Hir  Majestie  removed  to  Canterbury.  I  went  to  Canterbury 
to  bed. 

Wednesday  7.  Monsieur  departed  from  Canterbury  to  imbarke  at  Sand- 
wich.    I  wayted  on  him  some  part  of  the  way  and  returned  to  Canterbury. 

Luckily  there  is  a  great  deal  more  known  about  Sir  Francis 
Walsingham  than  can  be  gathered  from  these  meagre  diaries 
His  correspondence  during  Ms  embassies  in  France  was  pubMshed 
in  extenso  by  Sir  Dudley  Digges  in  1655,  mider  the  title  The 
Compkat  Ambassador. 

The  diary  was  pubhshed  by  the  Camden  Society  in  1871. 


SIR  THOMAS   CONINGSBY 

THIS  is  the  earhest  of  the  soldiers'  diaries  which  are  in- 
cluded in  this  collection.  It  is  only  a  fragment  covering, 
vrith  some  breaks,  the  few  weeks  from  August  13  to 
December  24,  1591.  Like  the  majority  of  soldiers'  diaries,  it  is 
concerned  exclusively  with  military  ojaerations  and  contains  no 
personal  references.  Sir  Thomas  Coningsby  wrote  definitely  for 
the  information  of  some  particular  person  whom  he  addresses  once 
or  twice.  His  notes  are  full  and  grapliic ;  his  style  is  so  natural, 
easy  and  mistilted  that  it  makes  one  regret  that  the  fragment  is 
so  brief. 

The  Siege  of  Rouen  with  wliich  the  diary  deals  is  well  known 
in  the  liistory  of  France  as  one  of  the  incidents  of  the  wars  of  the 
League.  The  city  was  seized  and  garrisoned  by  that  party  in  the 
year  1590.  Henry  IV  invested  it  on  November  11,  1591,  and  the 
siege  was  raised  on  the  approach  of  the  Duke  of  Parma  in  the; 
following  April.  Queen  Ehzabeth  was  prevailed  upon  to  send 
forces  in  aid  of  the  protestant  King  of  France,  as  she  then  had 
reason  to  esteem  him.  It  was  with  this  expeditionary  force  mider 
the  Earl  of  Essex  that  Sir  Thomas  Coningsby  ser\'ed. 
The  diary  is  headed  : 

A  Jomall  of  Cheife  Thinges  happened  in  our  ^Jomey  from  Deape  the  13  of 
Auguste  untyll  [blank] 

The  first  entry  begins : 

Upon  Satterdaie  binge  the  13  of  Auguste  my  lord  having  intelligence  that 
those  of  Roan  mente  to  give  him  a  camisado  [surprise]  in  the  nighte,  in  hia 


SIR  THOMAS   CONINGSBY  69 

army  provided  all  things  necessarie  to  welcome  them,  together  with  a  deter- 
mynation  that  if  they  came  not  that  nyghte  then  the  next  morninge  he  would 
have  surprysed  some  of  them  in  some  of  their  own  holdes  and  fortresses  nere 
adjoynynge. 

They  leave  Dieppe  and  proceed  on  their  march 

in  a  very  hot  daie  wonderfullie  dusted  and  pestered  with  flies. 

They  are  as  hospitably  received  in  the  French  villages  as  the 
expeditionary  force  323  years  later  : 

We  found  the  villages  and  howses  utterlie  abandoned  but  yet  mylke,  syder, 
freshe  water  and  bread  almost  in  everie  house  readye  sett  to  reheve  our  soldiers. 

Some  of  Sir  Thomas's  descriptions  of  adventures  and  engage- 
ments with  the  enemy  may  be  given. 

Having  scarcely  ended  our  soldierly  repaste  there  came  four  harquelatieres 
who  advertysed  that  they  had  discovered  the  enemye  comynge  out  of  a  wood 
nere  unto  us  ;  and  being  sente  backe  to  take  some  better  understanding  of 
them  in  going  to  the  rising  of  a  lytel  hill  they  were  encountered  by  seven 
harquelatiers  of  th'  ennemy,  who  shrowded  themselves  behind  a  wyndmyll 
and  assalting  ours  slewe  ii  of  them  and  hurt  the  third. 

My  lord  only  accompanyed  with  two  gentlemen  wente  to  the  King's  quarter 
where  after  dynner  th'  eixnemye  sallyed  out  on  every  syde  and  were  verie 
braggante  and  upon  the  castle  syde  made  skyrmysh  with  our  French  there. 
The  King,  my  lord  and  his  grand  esquire  lay  upon  an  immynente  place  all  on 
a  cloake  and  beheld  it.  Upon  our  quarter  they  sallyed  out  upon  our  neighbor 
Mounte  Morancy's  men  who  indevored  to  take  a  chiu-ch  nere  unto  the  verie 
gate  and  possessed  themselves  of  it.  Whereupon  they  made  their  sally  and 
inforced  their  horse  and  foote  to  abandon  the  place  with  more  than  a  lytle 
haste. 

Although  I  sale  it,  our  forwardnes  doth  make  the  French  wonder  to  see 
ours  of  the  beste  sorte  eyther  well  mounted  or  placed  in  the  head  of  the 
troupes  of  pykes,  to  aunswere  all  alarme  and  to  make  the  proudest  ronne  when 
any  offer  to  charge  them. 

We  might  see  many  of  their  horse  drove  downe  and  th'  ennemye  withdraw 
within  the  covert  of  the  towne  ;  and  there  we  might  behold  many  a  horse  well 
spurred  and  many  a  sword  joUyly  glystering  in  the  simn  on  both  sydes. 

This  daie  a  page  conamynge  into  the  king's  quarter  with  a  letter  from 
Villiers  to  some  men  aboute  the  king,  was  reprehended,  and  he  ymmediatly 
rj  put  the  letters  into  his  mouth  to  have  eaten  them  and  had  so  doan  but  that 
one  caught  him  by  the  throate  and  made  spytt  them  out  ;  but  they  were  so 
marred  that  noething  could  be  read  at  all ;  he  hath  bene  tortured  and  con- 
fessed some  things  for  the  king's  tome  in  this  buysines. 

This  daie  being  a  great  myst,  th'  ennemye  had  laid  soundrie  ambuscadoes 
for  us,  and  with  all  invention  of  villanous  raihng  they  thoughte  to  have  drawn 
us  out  of  our  trenches  to  skyrmysh  but  ours  foreseeing  the  padd  in  the  strawe 


70  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

have  deferred  to  aunswer  their  words  tyll  we  be  strong  ynough  to  breake  their 
heads. 

But  Coningsby  makes  notes  about  the  lighter  moments  of 
recreation  as  well  as  about  the  fighting. 

The  next  daie  being  well  loged,  my  lord  invited  for  solace  monsieur  Revience 
lieutenant  governor  of  Picardye  where  a  great  nomber  of  ladies  were  gathered 
together  not  without  dauiicing  and  musicke. 

This  eveninge  being  the  22  of  Auguste  the  kinge  with  his  nobles  would 
neades  leap  where  our  lord  generall  did  overleape  them  all. 

The  19  and  20  October  we  passed  in  making  goode  cheare,  coursing  in  the 
fields,  ryding  of  horses  playing  at  ballone  and  the  lyke. 

The  22  daie  we  passed  with  playinge  at  tennys  in  the  forenoone  and  a 
playinge  at  ballon  in  th'  afternoone  with  the  lieuetenant-gouvemor  of  Deape 
and  the  victorie  fell  on  our  syde. 

Sir  Roger  and  I  were  invyted  to  certaine  French  gentlemen  where  we  dranke 
carowses  ;  and  what  eyther  with  the  cold  of  the  long  expectation  in  the 
momynge  or  overmuch  wyne  at  dynner  th'  one  syde  of  my  head  ake  2  daies 
after. 

The  diary  closes  on  December  24  and  was  transmitted  to 
his  friend  for  whom  it  was  written;  whom  he  addresses  in  one 
passage  :  "I  pray  you  use  it  (the  information)  with  your  wonted 
dyscretion ;    for  I  would  not  wrjrte  thus  much  but  to  you." 

Probably  Coningsby  went  on  writing :  unfortunately  nothing 
further  is  in  existence.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we  have  not  his 
account  of  the  first  demonstration  made  by  the  Englishmen  before 
Rouen  in  which  the  Earl  of  Essex  had  not  only  the  misfortune  to 
lose  his  brother  but  also  to  incur  the  censure  of  his  detractors  at 
home  and  the  displeasure  of  his  royal  mistress. 

Sir  Thomas  Coningsby  was  elected  to  Parliament  for  the  city 
of  Hereford  in  1593,  and  also  became  sheriff  of  the  county.  He 
died  in  1625. 

The  journal  was  pubHshed  in  1847  in  the  first  volume  of  the 
Camden  Miscellanies. 


SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY 


SIR  SIMONDS  D'EWES 

BORN  in  Coxden,  in  Dorsetshire,  in  1602,  Simonds  d'Ewes 
was  educated  at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  and  called 
to  the  Bar.  He  became  High  Sheriff  for  Suffolk  in  1639 
and  was  elected  member  of  Parliament  for  Sudbury  in  1640.  In 
1641  he  was  created  a  Baronet  by  Charles  I,  but  on  the  outbreak 
of  the  Civil  War  he  adhered  to  Parliament.  In  1648  he  was  turned 
out  of  Parliament  by  the  army  as  one  of  those  who  were  thought 
to  retain  some  regard  for  the  person  of  the  King.  He  then  gave 
himself  up  to  literary  and,  more  especially,  antiquarian  studies 
and  died  in  1650. 

Between  1619  and  1636  he  kept  a  diary,  and  for  a  few  years 
again  at  a  later  date.  This  diary  he  wrote  up  and  left  in  the  form 
of  an  autobiographical  note.  It  therefore  comes  very  near  the 
limit  where  diary  becomes  autobiography,  but  after  a  prefatory 
chapter  or  two  he  retains  the  diary  form,  often  copying  several 
pages  from  the  original  diary.  Although  repetitions  and  the 
awkwardness  of  diary  style  may  have  been  avoided  by  this  re- 
vision, it  is  doubtful  whether  he  improved  his  original  notes, 
because  the  final  result  is  heavy  and  often  tedious  and  lacks  the 
freshness  and  spontaneity  of  momentary  writing. 

The  heaviness  is  added  to  by  the  fact  that  Sir  Simonds  was 
deeply  religious,  and  took  himself  very  seriously.  He  comes 
dangerously  near  being  a  prig. 

The  diary  deals  largely  with  historical  events  and  is  of  value 
to  historians  as  the  careful  opinion  of  a  contemporary  observer. 
His  estimate  of  James  I  is  on  the  whole  favourable,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  he  compares  him  with  his  successor.  He  gives  a  char- 
acteristic picture  of  the  King  going  down  to  open  Parliament  in 
1621. 

First  he  spoke  often  and  lovingly  to  the  people  standing  thick  and  threefold 
on  all  sides  to  behold  him,  "  God  bless  ye  !     God  bless  ye  !  "  contrary  to  his 

71 


72  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

former  hasty  and  passionate  custom  which  often  in  his  sudden  distemper 

would  bid  a  p or  a  plague  on  such  as  flocked  to  see  him.     Secondly,  though 

the  windows  were  filled  with  many  great  ladies  as  he  rode  along  yet  that  he 
spake  to  none  of  them  but  to  the  Marquis  of  Buckingham's  mother  and  wife  : 
that  he  spake  particularly  and  bowed  to  the  Count  of  Gondomar  the  Spanish 
Ambassador  ;    and  f otu-thly  looking  up  to  one  window  as  he  passed,  full  of 

gentlewomen  or  ladies,  all  in  yellow  bands,  he  cried  out  aloud  "  A  p take 

ye  !  are  ye  there  ?  "  at  which  being  much  ashamed  they  all  with<^ew  them- 
selves  suddenly  from  the  window. 

D'Ewes  expressed  special  admiration  for  Prince  Henry,  Charles 
I's  elder  brother,  "  a  prince  rather  addicted  to  martial  studies  and 
exercises  than  to  golf,  tennis  or  other  boy's  play."  His  bias  against 
Bacon  is  very  marked  :  "his  vices  were  so  stupendous  and  great 
as  they  utterly  obscured  and  out-poised  his  virtues."  He  gives 
a  charming  description  of  Henrietta  Maria  : 

On  Thursday  I  went  to  Whitehall  piirposely  to  see  the  Queen  which  I  did 
fully  all  the  time  she  sat  at  dimier  and  perceived  her  to  be  a  most  absolute 
deUcate  lady  after  I  had  exactly  surveyed  aU  the  features  of  her  face  much 
enlivened  by  her  radiant  and  sparkling  black  eye.  Besides,  her  deportment 
amongst  her  women  was  so  sweet  and  humble  and  her  speech  and  looks  to  her 
other  servants  so  mild  and  gracious  as  I  could  not  abstain  from  divers  deep- 
pitched  sighs  to  consider  that  she  wanted  the  knowledge  of  the  true  religion. 

His  puritanical  religious  views  gradually  estrange  him  from  the 
Court  in  Charles's  reign  and  his  disapproval  of  Buckingham  makes 
him  go  the  length  of  not  only  defending  but  almost  excusing 
Felton.  He  regards  Laud  "  a  little,  low,  red-faced  man  of  mean 
parentage,"  with  the  strongest  misgivings,  greatly  preferring  a 
virtuous  Papist  to  the  men  "  who  call  themselves  Protestants  as 
Bishop  Laud  and  Bishop  Wren  and  their  wicked  adherents." 
Needless  to  say  he  condemns  Ship-money  and  prays  daily  that  the 
Sovereign  may  abohsh  "  this  lamentable  and  fatal  taxation." 

Much  of  his  time  is  taken  up  with  antiquarian  research.  Not 
only  does  he  transcribe  all  the  Journals  of  Parliament  of  Queen 
Ehzabeth's  reign,  but  he  is  perpetually  examining  Escheat  Rolls, 
Communia  Rolls,  Plea  Rolls  and  all  kinds  of  registers  and  deeds. 
Hours  upon  hours  he  spends  in  this  way.  The  vast  histories  he 
projected,  however,  never  materialised,  and  indeed  he  evidently 
had  httle  power  of  exposition  or  narrative.  Many  of  the  fruits  of 
his  industry  in  the  shape  of  transcripts  from  ancient  records  are 
contained  in  the  Harleian  Collection  in  the  British  Museum. 

D'Ewes,  however,  does  not  only  deal  with  pubUc  affairs,  and  we 
can  discover  a  good  deal  about  the  man  in  the  more  domestic 
pages  of  the  diary  even  in  its  amended  form. 

He  is  very  proud  of  his  pedigree.     "  I  ev^  accounted  it  a  great 


SIR  SIMONDS  D'EWES  73 

i^  outward  blessing  to  be  well  descended,"  and  he  spends  much  time 
in  tracing  his  family  history  and  that  of  his  wife.  Cambridge  did 
not  suit  him. 

The  main  thing  which  made  me  even  weary  of  the  College  was  that  swearing, 
drinking,  rioting  and  hatred  of  all  piety  and  virtue  under  false  and  adulterated 
nicknames  did  abound  there  and  in  all  the  imiversity. 

He  is  in  every  way  exemplary,  or  anyhow  says  he  is  : 

My  love  to  the  study  of  the  law  began  now  to  increase  very  much,  being 
resonably  well  able  to  command  what  I  read  and  finding  daily  use  for  it,  I 
exceedingly  desired  knowledge. 

When  the  Prince  Elector  comes  over  Sir  Simonds  visits  him  and 
modestly  writes  : 

I  gave  him  such  solid  and  faithful  advice  for  the  recovery  of  his  lost  coimtry 
and  dominions  as  he  highly  approved  and  might  I  believe  ere  this  have  been 
resettled  in  them  had  it  laid  in  his  own  power  to  have  put  my  advice  into 
execution. 

In  fact,  on  one  occasion  he  is  obliged  to  admit  that  "  self-con- 
ceit and  pride  of  heart  "  were  faults  "  to  both  of  which  I  was 
naturally  prone  and  inclined," 

To  his  "  dear  and  tender  mother,"  who  died  when  he  was  a  boy, 
he  had  been  passionately  devoted,  but  with  his  father  he  was  apt 
to  have  rather  acrimonious  disputes.  First  over  his  desire  to 
have  a  private  chamber  of  his  own  for  a  study,  which  desire  "  by 
reason  of  my  father's  unreasonable  and  ever-to-be-condoled  tena- 
city and  love  of  money  "  was  thwarted  at  first.  Later  over  his 
allowance  ; 

Coming  to  my  father  on  Saturday  Oct.  6  to  receive  and  demand  that  small 
stipend  he  allowed  me  he  denied  me  part  of  it  upon  some  pretended  defalca- 
tions. This  so  amazed  me  being  vmprovided  of  most  necessaries  and  consider- 
ing also  that  he  kept  from  me  an  estate  of  five  or  six  thousand  poimds  of  mine 
own  that  I  unawares  expressed  my  gTief  unto  him  somewhat  unadvisedly,  at 
which  he  grew  so  extremely  offended  with  me  as  he  was  never  before  that 
time  nor  after  it  so  as  I  spake  but  once  with  him  for  about  the  space  of  five 
weeks  ensuing  although  I  resided  near  him  all  that  time. 

Again,  after  his  marriage,  when  his  father  wanted  part  of  the 
jointure  to  his  wife  to  be  released  owing  to  the  fact  that  she  had 
no  children,  there  is  a  sharp  dispute  between  them.  When  his 
father  dies  he  becomes  more  charitably  disposed  towards  him, 
but  he  cannot  resist  some  comment  on  his  faiUngs : 

I  have  much  confidence  also  that  he  did  seriously  set  himself  during  all 
that  time  (when  he  was  ill)  to  search  and  try  his  own  heart,  which  had  been 


74  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

too  much  set  upon  the  business  and  profits  of  his  present  life  and  to  prepare 
his  way  by  a  lively  faith  and  a  true  repentance. 

Sir  Simonds  married  Anne  Clapton.  Love  and  courtship  do 
not  enter  into  the  proceedings,  which  were  arranged  by  contract 
between  the  two  fathers.  We  do  not  learn  anything  about  his 
wife's  character,  though  he  frequently  expresses  devotion  to  her. 
He  earnestly  desired  a  male  heir,  but  although  she  had  a  number 
of  children  they  none  of  them  survived.  He  recites  the  ever- 
recurring  death  of  these  infants  with  great  resignation,  attributing  i 
it  all  to  God's  will.  By  Elizabeth  Willoughby,  his  second  wife, 
he  had  a  son  who  survived  him. 

He  was  very  strict  in  his  religious  practices.  Constantly  we 
read  ;  "  I  spent  the  day  in  a  private  religious  fast  and  humilia- 
tion," or  "  Saturday  I  devoted  to  a  family  humiliation  and 
religious  fasting  with  my  wife  and  most  of  our  people."  It  was 
his  religion  indeed  that  was  the  motive  power  behind  his  politics. 
As  a  young  man  he  was  once  assailed  by  serious  doubts  and  "  fell 
into  a  strong  and  dangerous  temptation."  The  occasion  of  this 
was  the  death  of  a  friend.  His  reflections  on  it  made  him  fall 
upon  "  two  dangerous  rocks  of  atheism."  He  argues  the  whole 
problem  at  length  and  finally  coftcludes : 

I  found  that  those  unriily  thoughts  of  atheism  were  the  devils  engines  and 
the  fruits  of  infidelity  not  to  be  dallied  withall  or  disputed,  but  to  be  avoided 
prayed  against  and  resisted  by  a  strong  and  lively  faith. 

And  for  the  rest  of  his  hfe  his  rigid  orthodoxy  and  puritanical 
strictness  never  leaves  him. 

However,  with  his  own  parson  in  Suffolk,  Mr.  Danford,  he  has 
the  most  embittered  relations.  We  are  never  told  quite  plainly 
what  the  cause  of  controversy  is  and  we  cannot  help  feehng  some 
sympathy  with  Mr.  Danford,  who  was  brought  into  such  close 
contact  with  the  self-righteous  and  sanctimonious  baronet. 

Mr,  Danford  practised  daily  new  and  malicious  devices  to  vex  us  so  as  we 
feared  we  should  at  last  be  driven  for  very  peace  and  quiet's  sake  to  forsake 
our  mansion  house  and  dwelling.  .  .  .  Loath  I  am  to  mention  his  malicious 
practices  but  that  the  necessity  of  setting  down  a  full  and  true  relation  of  the 
good  and  evil  events  and  passages  of  mine  own  life  enforceth  me  to  it. 


I  might  have  bestowed  more  time  on  my  precious  studies  had  I  not  been 
interrupted  by  Mr.  Danford's  wicked  malice.  .  .  .  For  though  he  had  for- 
borne to  catechise  in  the  afternoons  upon  Smidays  merely  out  of  his  spleen 
to  me  and  had  sometimes  leavened  his  forenoon  sermons  with  some  malicious 
sprinklings — yet  did  he  never  break  out  into  an  open  invective  and  a  profana- 


I 


I 


ft 


SIR  SIMONDS   D'EWES  75 

tion  of  the  church  and  pulpit  with  downright  raihng  till  Siuiday  April  13  of 
which  wicked  discourse  unworthy  the  name  of  a  sermon,  I  then  took  notes. 

He  complains  to  Dr.  Corbett,  Bishop  of  Norwich,  who  however 
seems 'to  have  taken  Mr.  Danford's  side  and  the  "  malicious  prac- 
tices "  continue,  so  that  he  removes  his  wife,  when  she  is  about 
to  have  a  child,  to  his  stepmother's  house,  "  so  as  I  might  not 
be  vexed  with  his  cross  and  mischievous  oppositions."  We  find, 
however,  Mr.  Danford  being  called  in  at  a  later  date  to  christen 
one  of  his  dying  infants,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  on  that  occasion 
anyhow  there  were  no  "  malicious  sprinklings." 

Sir  Simonds'  own  health  did  not  trouble  him  to  any  extent. 
He  only  records  one  occasion  on  which  a  series  of  "  aguish  fist  " 
made  him  very  ill.  His  wife's  many  confinements  and  her  even- 
tual death,  which  he  attributes  to  the  negligence  of  his  stepmother, 
Lady  Denton,  caused  him  great  anxiety.  Religion  and  study 
throughout  are  his  solace  and  comfort  in  the  terribly  solemn 
business  of  living. 

Sir  Simonds  did  not  write  with  a  view  to  publication.  But 
considering  himself  a  person  of  no  small  importance,  he  desired 
that  this  account  of  his  life  should  be  handed  down  to  his  descend- 
ants as  a  memorial  of  their  illustrious  ancestor. 

The  diary,  together  with  his  will  and  family  letters,  edited  by 
J.  O.  Halhwell,  was  published  in  1845. 


SIR  HENRY  SLINGSBY 

IF  special  notice  is  taken  of  this  diary,  which  only  covers  ten 
years  very  cursorily,  it  is  not  because  of  the  circumstances 
which  made  Sir  Henry  Slingsby  an  eye-witness  of  and  partici- 
pant in  the  defeat  of  Charles  I's  armies,  nor  because  of  his  own 
tragic  fate  some  years  later,  but  because  the  diary  itself  is  a 
document  which  discloses  an  attractive  personality  and  which  in 
its  literary  style  and  lively  presentation  of  domestic  as  well 
as  public  events  seems  to  claim  a  more  than  usual  amount  of 
attention. 

Sir  Henry  Slingsby  was  born  in  1601  ;  he  married  Barbara 
Bellasyse,  daughter  of  Viscount  Falconbridge,  in  1631.  He  sat 
in  Parhament  for  Knaresborough  and  was  one  of  the  fifty-nine 
members  who  voted  against  the  Bill  for  the  attainder  of  Strafford. 
He  adopted  the  King's  cause  against  Parliament ;  was  with 
Charles  at  York,  fought  at  Marston  Moor,  was  present  at  Naseby, 
and  at  the  surrender  of  Newark.  In  1655  he  was  implicated  in 
a  Royalist  plot  at  Hull.  He  was  taken  to  London,  tried,  con- 
victed, and  condemned  to  be  hanged,  drawn  and  quartered.  The 
sentence  was  altered  to  one  of  execution  and  he  was  beheaded  on 
Tower  Hill  in  1658.  Sir  Henry  lived  in  a  time  of  public  calamity, 
his  natural  preference  would  have  been  for  the  tranquil  employ- 
ments of  a  country  life.  He  shows  a  high  degree  of  learning,  and 
often  quotes  passages  and  takes  illustrations  from  the  classics. 

The  diary  begins  in  1638  and  continues  for  ten  years.  Charles 
I's  execution  is  mentioned  in  one  of  the  last  entries.  Sometimes 
he  seems  to  write  on  the  day,  but  more  often  he  summarises 
periods.  In  diary  writing  he  took  Montaigne  as  a  model.  He 
describes  Montaigne's  Day  Book  or  memorial  of  household  affairs 
and  adds : 

Hereupon  I  follow'd  the  advise  of  Michael  de  Montaigne  to  sett  down  in  this 
Book  such  accidents  as  befell  me  not  that  I  make  my  study  of  it  but  rather  a 
recreation  at  vacant  times  without  observing  any  time,  method,  or  order  in 
my  wrighting  or  rather  scribbling.  i 

76 


SIR  HENRY  SLINGSBY  tt 

Like  the  great  majority  of  diarists,  Slingsby  is  far  more  effective 
when  he  is  describing  domestic  matters  than  when  he  deals  with 
mihtary  engagements  and  the  pohtical  turmoil  of  the  Civil  War. 
He  has  a  happy  knack  of  describing  people.  He  records  the  death 
from  falhng  cliimneys  during  a  gale  of  Edward  Osborn,  a  nephew 
of  his  wife's  : 

He  was  but  of  a  slender  body  and  indifferently  shot  out  in  height,  his  limbs 
small  but  sinewy,  his  hair  of  a  light  colour  and  long  and  curled,  his  disposition 
gentle  and  sober,  of  a  good  meine  and  carriage  of  body,  loving  and  affable  to 
everyone  and  thus  was  he  taken  away  before  he  had  experience  of  the  vanities 
and  vices  of  the  Times. 

Here  is  his  account  of  Francis  Oddy,  a  most  useful  man  in  Sir 
Henry's  household,  who  acted  as  upholsterer,  "  to  furnish  the 
Lodgin  rooms  and  dress  them  up,"  and  also  as  caterer  : 

He  is  of  very  low  stature,  his  head  little,  and  his  hair  cut  short,  his  face 
lean  and  full  of  wi-inkles,  his  complection  such  that  it  shows  he  hath  endured 
all  wethers  :  his  disposition  not  suitable  with  the  rest  of  his  fellow  servants 
which  both  either  by  diligence  breed  envy  or  else  thro'  plain  dealing  Stir  up 
variance  :    and  having  a  working  head  is  in  continual  debate. 

We  learn  a  good  deal  about  his  servants,  he  takes  a  great 
interest  in  them.  He  has  sixteen  men  servants  and  eight  women 
servants.  When  his  cook,  George  Taylor,  marries,  he  writes 
some  reflections  on  his  experience  of  cooks : 

This  cook  hath  been  the  freest  from  disorder  of  5  several  Coolis  which  I 
have  had  since  I  became  a  housekeeper  ;  some  of  which  hath  been  without  all 
measure  disorder 'd.  When  they  have  sometimes  stolen  abroad  I  should  not 
hear  of  them  for  3  or  4  days  together  :  yet  commonly  I  never  part'd  with  any 
of  them  tiU  I  made  them  as  glad  to  be  gone  as  I  woiild  have  them.  I  never 
grew  passionate  with  them  nor  threatened  them  much  if  I  f  omad  them  service- 
able otherwise  but  still  sought  to  win  them  from  the  habits  of  drinking,  by 
fair  means,  willing  to  accept  their  future  promise  of  amendment.  ...  I 
required  not  of  them  so  much  their  dressing  the  meat  having  a  woman  servant 
that  took  into  her  custody  all  the  provision  and  delivered  it  out :  so  that  I 
need  not  fear  the  cook  embezeling,  especially  if  he  be  a  married  man  as  this 
cook  Samuell  was  ;  and  for  their  cm-iosity  in  the  art  of  cooking  I  do  not  much 
value,  not  have  we  much  use  for  it  in  our  country  housekeeping  unless 
sometimes  when  we  have  a  meeting  of  friends  and  then  only  to  comply  with 
the  fashion  of  the  times,  to  show  myself  answerable  to  what  is  expected,  and 
not  out  of  any  love  unto  excessive  feasting  which  now  a  days  is  very  much 
practised. 

There  is  also  a  note  about  his  gardener : 

The  last  of  October  dy'd  my  Guardener  Peter  Clark  after  12  or  14  years 
service  to  my  father  and  me ;    he  was  for  no  curiosity  in  Guardening,  but 


78  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

exceeding  laborioiis  in  grafting,  setting  and  sewing  :  which  extream  labour 
shortened  his  days  ;  he  languish'd  many  years  and  so  handl'd  as  he  was  nor 
could  any  judge  what  he  ail'd  ;  sometimes  he  would  say  he  was  bewitch'd  and 
at  other  times  that  he  had  a  great  worm  in  his  gutts  that  did  knaw  and  torment 
him  which  made  me  when  he  dy'd  send  for  a  chirurgeon  from  York  to  embowell 
him  ;   but  no  such  thing  appeared. 

Slingsby  is  affectionate  about  his  wife,  who  unfortunately  is  a 
great  sufferer  and  gets  little  or  no  relief  from  the  various  doctors 
he  employs  ;    he  says  of  her  : 

She  is  by  nature  timorous  and  compassionate  which  makes  her  full  of 
prayer  on  the  behalf  of  others.  I  have  sometimes  been  awakened  in  the  night 
when  I  have  heard  her  praying  to  herself  as  she  never  mist  that  duty  in  the 
day  time. 

He  is  called  home  and  finds  her  very  ill : 

It  did  at  first  puzeU  the  Physitians  to  understand  what  she  ail'd  ;  that 
thought  it  had  been  the  cholick,  then  the  Cardiaca  Passio,  then  the  Jaundice, 
then  the  Spleen. 

One  doctor  after  another  visits  her  :  Dr.  Parker  who  gives  her 
a  vomit,  Dr.  Micklethwate  who  declares  it  is  jaundice.  Dr.  Frires 
who  is  a  speciaHst  for  spleen,  and  prescribes  very  elaborate 
medicines,  including  hot  beer  at  meals,  which  are  all  carefully  set 
down.     The  latter  he  describes  thus  : 

This  man  is  of  great  fame  for  his  skiU  and  cures  which  he  doth  not  a  little 
brag  of  who  tells  you  of  his  £50  and  £100  cures. 

Later  on  he  goes  to  another  and  still  greater  man,  a  consultant, 
Sir  Theodore  Mayerne. 

He  seldom  went  to  any,  for  he  was  corpulent  and  vmwieldy ;  and  then 
again  he  was  rich  and  the  King's  physician  and  a  linight  which  made  him 
more  costly  to  deal  withaU. 

Yet  another  doctor  he  tries,  but  again  in  vain,  and  his  wife 
dies  "  after  she  had  endur'd  a  world  of  misery."  He  writes  of  her 
with  charming  affection  and  without  a  trace  of  sentimentality : 

The  loss  of  her  by  death  is  beyond  expression  both  to  her  children  and  all 
that  knew  her  ;  but  chiefly  to  myself  who  hath  enjoy'd  happy  days  in  the 
company  and  society  which  now  I  find  a  want  of  ;  she  was  a  woman  of  very 
sweet  disposition,  pleasant  and  affable  ;  and  when  anything  moved  her  to 
anger  or  that  she  conceived  any  injury  done  to  her  she  would  easily  forgive 
and  be  the  first  that  would  offer  termes  of  reconsilement ;  and  though  she 
was  passionate  it  was  not  lasting  but  soon  passed  over. 


I 


SIR  HENRY  SLINGSBY  79 

He  hesitates  to  go  to  his  home,  Redhouse  at  Scaglethorp,  after 
her  death  ; 

I  had  not  been  yet  at  my  own  house,  not  abiding  to  come  where  I  should 
find  a  miss  of  my  dear  wife  and  where  every  room  will  call  her  to  my  memory 
and  renew  my  grief  I  therefore  staid  at  Alne  at  my  sister  Bethell's  house  until 
I  had  better  digest'd  my  grief. 

It  was  while  he  was  here  that  he  received  his  commission  to 
command  the  "  trainbands  of  the  City  of  York."  But  before  we 
come  to  his  public  experiences  his  references  to  his  son  Thomas 
may  be  quoted.  He  was  evidently  a  believer  in  early  education. 
Before  the  child  was  four  years  old  he  could  "  tell  the  Latin  words 
for  the  parts  of  his  body  and  of  his  cloaths,"  but  Sir  Henry  adds 
when  he  is  engaging  a  tutor ; 

I  find  him  duller  to  learn  this  year  than  last  (he  was  not  yet  five)  which 
would  discourage  one  but  that  I  think  the  cause  to  be  his  too  much  minding 
Play  which  takes  oH  his  mind  from  his  books  ;  therefore  they  do  ill  that  do 
foment  and  cherish  that  hmnour  in  a  child  and  by  inventing  new  sports 
increase  his  desire  to  play  which  caviseth  a  great  aversion  to  their  book ; 
and  their  mind  being  at  first  season'd  with  vanity  will  not  easily  loose  the  relish 
of  it. 

The  next  year  he  buys  him  a  suit  of  clothes, 

being  the  first  breeches  and  doublet  that  he  ever  had  and  made  by  my  tailor 
Mr.  Miller  ;  it  was  too  soon  for  him  to  wear  them  being  but  5  years  old,  but 
that  his  mother  had  a  desire  to  see  him  in  them,  how  proper  a  man  he  would 
be. 

Slingsby  has  a  way  of  branching  off  into  general  reflections  and 
aphorisms  after  he  has  recorded  some  particular  event.  On  the 
subject  of  ambition  and  ostentation  he  says  : 

We  judge  our  actions  lost  if  they  be  not  set  out  to  show  like  Mountebanks 
that  show  the  operation  of  their  skill  upon  scaffolds  in  view  of  all  passengers 
that  more  notice  may  be  taken  of  them  ;  so  ambitious  are  we  of  renown  that 
goodness,  moderation,  equity,  constancy  and  such  qualities  are  little  set  by. 

He  deplores  the  morals  of  the  age  in  which  he  Uves : 

The  approbation  of  others  in  so  corrupt  an  age  is  an  uncertain  foundation 
to  build  vertuous  actions  upon ;  that  which  is  commendable  is  not  always 
learnt  by  example  of  the  most  part,  God  keep  every  man  from  being  an 
honest  man  according  to  the  description  is  now  a  days  made  of  it ;  that 
which  was  account'd  vice  is  now  grown  in  fashion  and  nothing  count'd  vice. 

And  this  on  war ; 

There  is  no  stability  in  anything  of  this  world  ;  when  things  are  once 
advanced  to  such  a  height,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  they  will  there  settle  but 
rather  return  to  the  same  degree  they  were.     But  all  is  lost  if  warr  continue 


80  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

among  us  ;   one  year's  continuance  shall  make  a  greater  desolation  than  20 
years  shall  recover. 

Yet  warlike  operations  were  to  occupy  so  much  of  his  time.  He 
partakes  in  them  out  of  a  sense  of  duty  and  loyalty  to  the  King, 
but  in  the  middle  of  them  he  confesses,  "  My  own  disposition  is 
to  love  quietness,"  and  occasionally  he  snatches  a  day  at  home. 
His  descriptions  of  the  engagements  were  evidently  written  some 
time  afterwards.  They  are  often  difficult  to  follow,  and  though 
detailed  are  not  very  illuminating. 

In  marching  about  the  accommodation  was  not  always  of  the 
best : 

At  old  Radnor  the  King  lay  in  a  poor  low  Chamber  and  my  Ld  of  Linsey 
and  others  by  the  Kitching  fire  on  hay  ;  no  better  were  we  accomodat'd  for 
victuals  ;  which  makes  me  remember  this  passage  ;  when  the  King  was  at 
his  supper  eating  a  pullet  and  a  piece  of  cheese  the  room  without  was  full 
but  the  mens'  stomachs  empty  for  want  of  meat ;  the  good  wife  troubl'd  with 
continual  calling  upon  her  for  victuals  and  having  it  seems  but  the  one  cheese 
comes  into  the  room  where  the  King  was  and  very  soberly  ask  if  the  King 
had  done  with  the  cheese  for  the  Gentlemen  without  desired  it. 

There  are  one  or  two  httle  sketches  of  Charles  : 

He  kept  his  hours  most  exactly  both  for  his  exercises  and  for  hia  dispatches 
as  also  his  hours  for  admitting  all  sorts  to  come  to  speak  with  him.  You 
might  know  where  he  would  be  at  any  hour  from  his  rising  which  was  very 
early  to  his  walk  he  took  in  the  garden  and  so  to  Chappie  and  dinner  ;  so  after 
dinner  if  he  went  not  abroad  he  had  his  hours  for  wrighting  and  discourcing, 
or  chess  playing  or  Temiis. 

Here  I  do  wonder  at  the  admirable  temper  of  the  King  whose  constancy 
was  such  that  no  perils  never  so  unavoidable  covild  move  him  to  astonishment ; 
but  that,  still  he  set  the  same  face  and  settl'd  covmtenance  upon  what  adverse 
fortitne  soever  befell  him  :  and  neither  was  exalt'd  in  prosperity  nor  deject'd 
in  adversity ;  which  was  the  more  admirable  in  him  seeing  that  he  had  no 
other  to  have  recoui'se  luato  for  councill  and  assistance  but  mvist  bear  the 
whole  bvu"den  upon  his  shoulders. 

Slingsby  makes  a  flying  visit  home  disguised  and  at  night  time  : 
"  scarce  any  in  my  own  house  knowing  that  I  was  there."  The 
record  of  fighting  is  of  course  one  of  continual  disaster.  The  last 
entries  are  very  scrappy.     There  is  a  note  on  the  King's  execution : 

But  not  withstanding  all  his  prayers  and  intreaties  they  would  not  release 
him  :  and  while  I  remained  concealed  in  my  house  I  covdd  hear  of  his  going 
to  Holmby,  to  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  to  Whitehall  at  last ;  where  he  end'd  his 
good  life  upon  the  30  of  January  1648-9.  I  hear  heu  me  ;  quid  heu  me  ?  humana 
perpessi  sumus.  Thus  I  end'd  these  conunentaries  or  book  of  remembrance 
beginning  in  the  year  1638  and  ending  in  the  year  1648. 


SIR  HENRY  SLINGSBY  81 

He  then  adds  some  notes  about  his  garden  and  about  the  "  great 
flouds  as  seldome  hath  been  known." 

When  he  was  in  prison  in  1658  Sir  Henry  Slingsby  wrote 
A  Father's  Legacy  to  his  Sons,  which  was  a  sort  of  moral  and 
philosophic  injunction.  Clarendon  says  he  was  "  in  the  first  rank 
of  the  gentlemen  of  Yorkshire  "  and  "  was  a  gentleman  of  a  good 
understanding  but  of  a  very  melanchohc  nature."  "  When  he 
was  brought  to  die  he  spent  very  little  time  in  discourse  ;  but 
told  them  '  he  was  to  die  for  being  an  honest  man  of  which  he 
was  very  glad.'  " 

Extracts  from  the  diary  were  published  by  Sir  Walter  Scott 
m  1806.  A  more  or  less  complete  edition  of  it,  edited  by  the 
Rev.  D.  Parsons,  was  published  in  1836. 


6 


SAMUEL  PEPYS 

BY  general  consent  the  diary  of  Samuel  Pepys  may  be 
awarded  the  first  place  among  English  diaries.  It  fulfills 
all  the  conditions  of  what  a  diary  should  be.  It  is  written 
with  scrupulous  regularity  daily  and  is  therefore  quite  spon- 
taneous. Detailed  narrative  of  public  events,  intimate  domestic 
incidents  and  candid  self-revelation  all  find  a  place  in  it.  Such 
are  the  powers  of  narration  and  observation  of  the  writer  that  it 
may  certainly  be  said  that  any  page  from  Pepys  occurring  in 
anyone  else's  diary  would  be  worth  quoting  in  full. 

We  are  concerned  with  Pepys  as  a  diarist,  not  wath  his  official 
or  political  career.  But  it  will  be  well  to  give  a  brief  outline  of  his 
life. 

Samuel  Pepys  was  born  in  1633.  His  father,  John  Pepys,  was 
a  London  tailor,  who  subsequently  inherited  an  estate  at  Bramp- 
ton, near  Huntingdon.  Samuel,  the  fifth  child  of  a  large  family, 
was  educated  at  Magdalene  College,  Cambridge.  All  we  hear  of 
his  university  career  is  that  on  October  22,  1653,  he  was  publicly 
admonished  with  another  undergraduate  for  having  been  "  scan- 
dalously overserved  with  drink."  In  1655  he  married  Elizabeth 
Marchant,  daughter  of  a  French  Huguenot  exile.  He  started  his 
official  career  as  secretary  to  his  cousin,  Edward  Montague, 
afterwards  Earl  of  Sandwich,  through  whose  influence  he  was  ap-" 
pointed  "  clerk  of  the  acts  "  in  the  Navy  Office  and  afterwards 
clerk  of  the  Privy  Seal.  In  1668  he  delivered  a  speech  at  the 
Bar  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  defence  of  the  Navy,  which  had 
been  violently  attacked  after  the  war  with  Holland.  This  gave 
him  the  ambition  of  becoming  a  member  of  Parliament.  After 
an  interval  during  which  he  became  secretary  of  the  Admiralty, 
Pepys  was  elected  in  1679  member  for  Harwich.  He  had  been 
unjustly  suspected  of  popery  and  was  also  accused  of  betraying 
naval  secrets  to  the  French.  This  arose  out  of  his  friendship 
with  the  Duke  of  York  (James  II).  In  1684  he  was  elected  presi- 
dent of  the  Royal  Society,  which  he  had  joined  in  1664.  On  the 
accession  of  James  II  he  became  virtually  Minister  for  the  Navy. 

82 


SAMUEL   PEPYS  88 

The  revolution  of  1688  ended  his  career.     Except  for  a  brief 

period  of  imprisonment  in  1690  on  the  charge  of  Jacobite  intrigue, 

he  spent  the  rest  of  his  hfe  in  retirement,  corresponding  with  his 

friends  and  arranging  his  valuable  library.     He  died  on  May  25, 

1703,  at  his  house  at  Clapham. 

^      Such  a  career  as  this,  though  quite  successful,  would  not  bring 

any  man's  name  to  the  front,  and  the  name  of  Pepys  would  only 

have  been  known  to  the  more  industrious  students  of  history  who 

were  investigating  the  condition  of  the  Navy  in  Stuart  times. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  for  over  a  hundred  years  after  his  death  his 

name  was  absolutely  unknown  except  to  those  who  came  across 

the  various  portraits  made  of  him.     He  was  painted  by  Savill 

Hales,  Lely  and  Kneller.     There  is  a  uniform  similarity  of  type 

in  the  portraits  of  periwigged  gentlemen  of  that  period,   and 

admirable  as  the  representations  of  Pepys  by  these  distinguished 

painters  may  be,  they  are  as  nothing  compared  to  the  detailed 

finished  and  living  picture  he  gives  of  himself. 

The  diary,  written  between  1660  and  1669,  M^as  first  partially 
pubhshed  in  1825.  The  fuller  edition  did  not  appear  till  1848. 
The  six  manuscript  volumes  had  remained  in  the  interval  since 
their  author's  death  undisturbed  in  the  library  at  Magdalene 
College  with  Pepys'  other  books.  The  diary  was  very  neatly 
written  in  cipher  or  shorthand  (Sheltons'  system,  published  in 
1641)  and  was  further  comphcated  by  the  use  of  foreign  languages 
and  varieties  of  his  own  invention.  It  was  deciphered  by  John 
Smith,  rector  of  Baldock,  in  Hertfordshire,  between  1819  and 
1822,  and  after  its  pubhcation  the  unique  fame  of  Samuel  Pepys 
was  established  for  all  time. 

General  considerations  as  to  motive  in  keeping  a  diary  have 
already  been  discussed.  In  the  case  of  Pepys  the  motive  is  by  no 
means  clear.  That  he  intended  it  to  be  kept  secret  from  his 
contemporaries  and  specially  from  his  wife,  is  obvious  enough, 
not  only  because  of  his  use  of  cipher,  but  because  he  only  once 
divulged  the  fact  that  he  was  keeping  a  diary  to  a  friend  (Sir 
William  Coventry)  and  he  reg'retted  it  afterwards,  "  it  not  being 
necessary  nor  may  be  convenient  to  have  it  known."  But  how 
about  posterity  ?  Dr.  R.  Garnett  says :  "  He  certainly  did  not 
intend  or  expect  his  Diary  to  be  read."  i  This  seems  almost  im- 
possible. The  diary  writer  whose  intentions  were  as  decided 
as  this  would  leave  direction  for  the  destruction  of  his  diary  on 
his  death.  Pepys  never  did  this,  and  when  arranging  and  burn- 
mg  old  papers  he  explains  that  he  went  through  them  all  "  that  I 

1  Preface  to  Everyman's  Library  Edition  of  the  Diary. 


84  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

may  have  nothing  by  me  but  what  is  worth  keeping  and  fit  to  be 
seen  if  I  should  miscarry." 

R.  L.  Stevenson  suggests  that  he  was  writing  for  himself  in  his 
old  age.  "  The  appeal  to  Samuel  Pepys  years  hence  is  unmis- 
takable." ^  Against  this  we  would  set  the  fact  that  the  diary 
shows  no  signs  whatever  of  having  been  read  over  by  him  sub- 
sequently. Except  for  one  unimportant  addition  of  the  dates 
of  death  to  a  list  of  names  (written  in  longhand  as  all  names  were), 
there  is  not  a  single  correction,  addition  or  alteration.  No,  it 
seems  clear  that  Pepys  had  not  the  failing  common  to  many 
diarists  of  reading  over  their  past  effusions,  though  this  may  be 
also  attributed  to  his  faihng  eyesight.  Moreover,  reading  short- 
hand comfortably  is  a  different  matter  from  writing  it,  and  its 
casual  perusal  would  in  any  case  have  been  a  labour.  The  idea 
that  Pepys  was  engaged  in  building  up  posthumous  fame  may  also 
be  dismissed.  He  could  not  have  regarded  with  equanimity  the 
disclosure  of  his  indiscretions,  weaknesses,  petty  faults,  and 
doubtful  and  sometimes  positively  disreputable  behaviour.  He 
had,  we  feel  sure,  no  sort  of  idea  of  the  value  of  what  he  had 
written.  The  habit  of  daily  diary  writing  had  grown  on  him  T 
and  he  wrote  primarily  for  his  own  satisfaction ;  although  no  ^ 
doubt  he  was  unconsciously  aware  that  the  position  in  which  he 
was  placed  in  constant  contact  with  eminent  people  made  his  i 
experiences  worth  recording.  Gradually  the  diary  became  a 
friend,  a  confidant,  and  indeed  a  treasure.  He  filled  three  thou- 
sand pages  and  never  missed  a  day,  with  the  exception  of  one  fort-  ' 
night  in  1668.  He  only  left  off  writing  because  of  the  trouble 
with  his  eyesight.  But  the  six  volumes  could  not  have  been  for- 
gotten. There  they  were  in  the  library  which  he  was  always 
arranging  and  rearranging  with  the  minutest  care.  Mr.  Percy 
Lubbock  seems  really  to  get  nearest  to  the  possible  solution 
when  he  suggests  that  Pepys  in  his  old  age  was  always  consider- 
ing the  question,  should  he  destroy  it,  should  he  revise  it,  should 
he  use  the  material  for  a  book ;  and  finally  died  before  he  had 
decided  on  the  answer.  ^ 

A  word  about  his  style.  As  to  whether  it  was  literary  or  not 
is  beside  the  question.  He  was  certainly  not  a  scholar  like 
Slingsby,  d'Ewes  and  Evelyn.  The  advantage  of  a  literary 
style  in  diary  writing  is  a  very  minor  consideration.  One  of  the 
indispensable  essentials  is  the  faithful  disclosure  of  individuality ; 
and  no  diary  ever  written  more  completely  portrays  the  character 


*  Men  and  Books. 

*  Pepys  (Literary  Lives  Series),  by  Percy  Lubbock. 


SAMUEL  PEPYS  85 

of  the  writer.  He  does  not  write,  he  talks  or  rather  chats.  The 
absurdly  trivial  details  most  carefully  recorded  give  the  atmo- 
sphere and  finish  of  a  Dutch  picture.  There  is  a  consequent  loss 
of  relative  values.  For  no  one  with  their  eye  or,  as  in  the  case  of 
Pepys,  a  magnifying  glass  concentrated  on  the  present,  day  by 
day,  can  distinguish  the  importance  or  unimportance  of  passing 
events.  Anyhow  we  would  not  miss  his  telling  us  that  the  candle 
was  going  out,  "  which  makes  me  %vrite  thus  slobberingly,"  nor 
the  hundred  details  about  his  clothes,  his  food  and  his  servants  ; 
nor  when  he  fetches  his  watch  from  the  watchmaker  : 

But  Lord  to  see  how  much  of  my  old  folly  and  childishness  hangs  on  me 
still  that  I  cannot  forbear  carrying  my  watch  in  my  hand  in  the  coach  all  this 
afternoon  and  seeing  what  o'clock  it  is  one  hundred  times. 

Nor  his  first  shave  with  a  razor ; 

This  morning  I  begun  a  practice  which  I  find  by  the  ease  I  do  it  with  that 
I  shaU  continue  it  saving  me  money  and  time  ;  that  is  to  trimme  myself  with 
a  razer,  which  pleases  me  mightily. 

The  secret  of  his  genius  was  his  zest  for  hving.     He  was  an 
amateur  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word.     Not  only  did  the  arts 
appeal  to  him  so  that  he  was  able  to  give  a  good  critical  opinion 
about  painting  and  specially  about  music,  but  his  intense  interest 
in  life  carried  him  much  further,  and  politics,  the  drama,  theology, 
mechanics,  gardening,  hydrostatics,  astronomy  as  well  as  riding^ 
dancing,  games,  dressing,  eating  and  drinking,  all  claim  his  rapt 
attention.     To    his    friends    and    acquaintances    he    must    have 
appeared  specially  sympathetic.     He  was  not,  however,  a  wit, 
nor  a  raconteur  or  a  great  talker.     Such  people  are  far  too  egotis- 
tical to  be  observant.     John  Evelyn,  his  fellow-diarist,  mentions 
him  when  he  dies  as  his  "  particular  friend,"  and  describes  him  as 
"  a  very  worthy  industrious  and  curious  person  none  in  England 
exceeding  him  in  knowledge  of  the  navy  ...  he  was  universally 
beloved,   hospitable,  generous,   learned  in  many  things,   skilled 
in  music,  a  very  great  cherisher  of  learned  men  of  whom  he  had 
the  conversation."     The  word   "curious,"   here  meaning  eager 
for  knowledge,  is  the  exact  right  adjective. 

We  picture  Pepys  in  company  watching,  hstening,  observing, 
making  mental  notes,  encouraging  others  to  give  him  material 
for  the  faithful  record  which  in  a  few  hours  he  was  going  to  write 
down.  He  was  all  eyes  and  ears,  and  whether  it  was  at  a  council 
meeting,  a  court  of  justice,  a  church  service,  a  play,  a  dinner, 
a  dance,  or  a  ride,  he  was  collecting  impressions  and  hoarding 
up  gossip. 


86  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

The  production  of  his  diary  in  an  expurgated  forni  has  been 
necessary  owing  to  the  coarseness  and  reahstic  detail  of  some 
passages  in  the  original  manuscript.  The  result  of  this  is  to 
give  us  a  Pepys  of  greater  refinement  and  modesty  than  was  ac- 
tually the  case.  Pepys  was  not  a  model  man.  Far  from  it. 
He  was  a  mass  of  faults,  petty,  frivolous,  venal,  sensual,  often 
drunken  and  sometimes  brutal.  In  fact,  the  unpublished  pas- 
sages rather  destroy  some  of  the  illusions  we  get  in  the  pubhshed 
editions.  But  whatever  his  faults  and  vices  were  he  admits 
and  records  them  all.  He  regrets  many  of  them.  He  is  often 
humble,  but  his  repentances  are  never  morbid. 

His  natural  "  mirth  "  saved  him  from  over-indulgence  in  self- 
depreciation  and  helped  him  too  in  sorrow  and  danger  and  in 
discomfort.  Crowded  in  a  most  uncomfortable  way  in  a  cabin 
on  board  ship,  instead  of  complaining,  he  writes  : 

But,  Lord,  the  mirth  which  it  caused  to  me  to  be  waked  in  the  night  by  this 
snoring  round  about  me ;   I  did  laugh  till  I  was  ready  to  biu-st. 

To  a  man  of  this  temperament  much  can  be  forgiven.  He 
never  allowed  tragic  incidents  of  which  he  was  a  witness  to  depress 
him  unduly,  and  as  soon  as  there  was  an  opportunity  for  mirth 
he  took  advantage  of  it.  So  that  as  he  looked  back  these  were  the 
times  that  coloured  his  hfe  most :  "  Thus  ends  this  year  with 
great  mirth  to  me  and  my  wife." 
I  Pepys  was  industrious  in  his  official  duties,  took  them  seriously 
•  and  performed  them  efficiently.  The  keeping  of  the  diary  is 
,  itself  a  testimony  to  his  industrious  persistence.  He  was  very 
orderly  in  his  household  arrangements  and  liked  everything  to  be 
"  neat."  He  was  a  bon  viveur  and  a  materialist  without  any 
great  refinement,  yet  he  had  artistic  perceptions  far  above  the 
average ;  while  he  was  absurdly  punctihous  in  one  direction 
he  could  be  frivolously  and  childishly  bohemian  in  another: 
without  special  erudition  he  was  naturally  critical,  and  while 
in  many  ways  a  snob  he  hated  snobbishness. 

But  reflections  on  his  character,  style,  and  career  are  better 
illustrated  by  extracts  from  the  diary  than  by  inferences.  The 
great  difficulty  in  this,  however,  is  that  there  is  such  a  vast  amount 
of  quotable  material,  and  extracts  must  spoil  one  of  the  chief 
features  of  the  diary,  which  is  the  fulness  of  the  consecutive 
record.  Unlike  some  diarists,  Pepys  does  not  set  out  with  the 
intention  of  laying  bare  by  self-revelation  and  self-analysis  the; 
light  and  shade  of  his  character.     But  the  faithful  and  minute 


SAMUEL   PEPYS  87 

recital  of  his  every-day  pursuits  gives  us  the  portrait  even  better 
than  any  self-conscious  dissection  of  himself  would  have  done. 

Compared  to  some  other  diarists,  Pepys'  entries  with  regard 
to  his  ailments  are  comparatively  rare.  The  anniversary  of  the 
operation  when  he  was  successfully  "  cut  for  the  stone  "  was 
always  celebrated  by  a  family  dinner  on  "  the  day  of  my  solemnity 
for  my  cutting  of  the  stone."  On  these  occasions  the  stone, 
which  was  carefully  preserved  in  a  case,  was  exhibited  to  his 
friends.  It  was  even  lent  for  inspection  more  than  once  in  order 
to  encourage  some  sufferer  to  undergo  the  operation.  His  failing 
eyesight,  which  was  eventually  the  cause  of  his  giving  up  diary 
writing,  is  naturally  spoken  of  more  and  more  towards  the  end. 
Otherwise,  except  for  occasional  excesses,  he  seems  to  have 
enjoyed  good  health.  He  was  an  early  riser.  "  Up  betimes  " 
is  a  frequent  introduction  to  the  day's  entry,  and  sometimes 
*'  up  mighty  betimes,"  though  there  were  occasions  when  he  lay 
in  bed  till  late  in  the  day.  Of  course  if  he  has  a  bilious  attack 
or  a  cold  he  tells  us  : 

About  the  middle  of  the  night  I  was  very  ill — I  think  with  eating  and 
di'inking  too  much — and  so  I  was  forced  to  call  the  mayde  who  pleased  my 
wife  and  I  in  her  running  up  and  down  so  innocently  in  her  smock. 

Home  to  supper  having  a  great  cold,  got  on  Sunday  last,  by  sitting  too  long 
with  my  head  bare  for  Mercer  [his  wife's  maid]  to  comb  and  wash  my  eares. 

As  an  epicure  and  hedonist  Pepys  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  food. 
He  shows  this  as  much  by  his  reference  to  his  relish  of  certain 
dishes  as  by  his  indignation  at  bad  food.  On  one  of  the  cele- 
brations of  his  operation  for  the  stone  he  says  : 

Very  merry  at  before  and  after  dinner  and  the  more  for  that  my  dinner  was 
great  and  most  neatly  dressed  by  our  own  only  maid.  We  had  a  fricassee  of 
rabbits  and  chickens,  a  leg  of  mutton  boiled,  three  carps  in  a  dish,  a  great  dish 
of  a  side  of  lamb,  a  dish  of  roasted  pigeons,  a  dish  of  fotu*  lobsters,  three  tarts, 
lamprey  pie  (a  most  rare  pie)  a  dish  of  anchovies,  good  wine  of  several  sorts, 
and  all  things  mighty  noble  and  to  my  great  content. 

But  sometimes  he  complains  : 

Dined  at  the  Duke  of  Albermarle's  and  a  bad  and  dirty,  nasty  dinner. 

He  [Sir  W.  Hiekes]  did  give  us  the  meanest  dinner  of  beef  shoulder  and 
umbles  of  venison  .  .  .  and  a  few  pigeons  and  all  in  the  meanest  manner  that 
ever  I  did  see  to  the  basest  degree. 

Pepys  drank  ;  but  who  did  not  in  Restoration  days  ?  He  does 
not  by  any  means  become  a  slave  to  the  habit,  but  rather  notes 


88  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

its  injurious  effects  on  his  health  and  finally  makes  a  resolution 
to  abstain. 

Finding  my  head  grow  weak  now  a  days  I  come  to  drink  wine  and  therefore 
hope  I  shall  leave  it  ofi  of  myself  which  I  pray  God  I  could  do. 

What  at  dinner  and  supper  I  drink  I  know  not  how,  of  my  own  accord,  so 
much  wine  that  I  was  even  almost  foxed  and  my  head  aked  all  night ;  so 
home  and  to  bed  without  prayers,  which  I  never  did  yet  since  I  come  to  the 
house  of  a  Sunday  night ;  I  being  now  so  out  of  order  that  I  durst  not  read 
prayers  for  fear  of  being  perceived  by  my  servants  in  what  case  I  was. 

After  the  vow  there  seems  to  have  been  an  improvement : 

There  (at  the  Guildhall)  wine  was  offered  and  they  dnink,  I  only  drinking 
some  hypocras  which  do  not  break  my  vowe  it  being  to  the  best  of  my  present 
judgment  only  a  mixed  compound  drink  and  not  any  wine. 

His  clothes  interested  him  even  more  than  food  or  drink  and 
the  references  to  them  are  innumerable.  A  few  only  can  be 
given. 

This  morning  my  brother's  man  brought  me  a  new  black  baize  waistcoate 
faced  with  silk,  which  I  put  on,  from  this  day  laying  by  half  shirts  for  this 
Winter.  He  brought  me  also  my  new  gown  of  purple  shagg  ;  also  as  a  gift 
from  my  brother,  a  velvet  hat  very  fine  to  ride  in  and  the  fashion  which 
pleases  me. 

My  tailor  brings  me  home  my  fin>^  new  coloured  cloth  suit  my  cloak  lined 
with  plush — as  good  a  suit  as  ever  I  wore  in  my  life  and  mighty  neat  to  my 
great  content. 

He  tells  us  a  great  deal  about  his  servants.  Some  pleased  him, 
others  made  him  impatient  and  angry.  On  one  occasion  he  is 
brutal  enough  to  kick  his  maid,  and  on  another  occasion  he  loses 
his  temper  with  the  boy. 

I  sent  my  boy  home  for  some  papers  when  he  staying  longer  than  I  would 
have  him  I  became  angry  and  boxed  my  boy  when  he  come  that  I  do  hurt 
my  thumb  so  much  that  I  was  not  able  to  stir  all  the  day  after  and  in  great 
pain. 

Nothing  in  the  diary  is  exposed  in  a  more  vivid  and  natural 
way  than  the  relationship  between  Pepys  and  his  wife.  His 
pride  and  affection  alternate  with  his  impatience  and  irritability, 
and  his  changing  moods  are  recorded  with  unfailing  candour. 
Her  untidiness  exasperated  him  frequently  and  she  dressed  badly. 
Although  he  spent  a  great  deal  on  his  own  clothes,  he  was  often 
very  niggardly  in  this  respect  towards  her.  She  had  ample 
cause  for  complaint  in  his  infidelities  and  his  incurable  flirta- 
tiousness,  but  so  deep  was  their  underlying  affection  that  it  stood 


SAMUEL   PEPYS  89 

the  strain  of  what  proved  sometimes  to  be  rather  severe  wear 
and  tear.  A  succession  of  extracts  from  the  diary  will  give  the 
picture. 

I  was  angry  with  my  wife  for  her  things  lying  about  and  in  my  passion 
Ificked  the  Httle  fine  basket  which  I  bought  her  in  Holland  and  broke  it  which 
troubled  me  after  I  had  done  it. 

Somewhat  vexed  at  my  wife's  neglect  in  leaving  of  her  scarfe,  waistcoate 
and  nightdressings  in  the  coach  to-day  that  brought  us  from  Westminster 
though  I  confess  she  did  give  them  to  me  to  look  after. 

A  little  angry  with  my  wife  for  minding  nothing  now  but  the  dancing 
master,  having  him  come  twice  a  day  which  is  folly. 

My  Lord  [Lord  Sandwich]  replied  thus  :  "Sir  John,  what  do  you  think 
Of  your  neighbour's  wife  ?  "  looking  upon  me.  "  Do  you  not  think  that  he 
hath  a  great  beauty  to  his  wife  ?  "  "  Upon  my  word  he  hath."  Which  I 
was  not  a  little  proud  of. 

By  and  by  comes  my  wife  by  coach  well  home,  and  having  got  a  good  fowl 
ready  for  supper  against  her  coming,  we  ate  heartily  and  so  with  great  content 
and  ease  to  our  own  bed,  there  nothing  appearing  so  to  our  content  as  to  be  at 
our  own  home,  after  being  abroad  awhile. 

Lay  long  in  bed  talking  with  pleasure  with  my  poor  wife,  how  she  used  to 
make  coal  fires  and  wash  my  fotU;  clothes  with  her  own  hand  for  me,  poor 
wretch  !  in  our  little  room  at  my  Lord  Sandwich's  :  for  which  I  ought  for 
ever  to  love  and  admire  her  and  do  ;  and  persuade  myself  she  would  do  the 
same  thing  again  if  God  should  reduce  us  to  it. 

My  wife  having  dressed  herself  in  a  silly  dress  of  a  blue  petticoat  uppermost 
and  a  white  satin  waistcoat  and  white  hood  .  .  .  did,  together  with  my  being 
hungry  which  always  makes  me  peevish,  make  me  angry. 

My  wife  dressed  this  day  in  fair  hair  did  make  me  so  mad  that  I  spoke  not 
one  word  to  her  though  I  was  ready  to  burst  with  anger. 

Anon  comes  down  my  wife  dressed  in  her  second  mourning  with  her  black 
moyre  waistcoat  and  short  petticoat  laced  with  silver  lace  so  basely  that  I 
could  not  endure  to  see  her  .  .  .  so  that  I  was  horrid  angry  and  would  not  go 
to  our  intended  meeting  which  vexed  me  to  the  blood. 

Somewhat  out  of  humour  all  day  reflecting  on  my  wife's  neglect  of  things 
and  impertinent  humour  got  by  this  liberty  of  being  from  me  which  she  is 
never  to  be  trusted  with  :   for  she  is  a  fool. 

So  home  to  dinner  with  my  wife  very  pleasant  and  pleased  with  one  another's  V 

company  and  in  our  general  enjoyment  one  of  another,  better  we  think  than 
most  other  couples  do. 

Away  home  when  I  told  my  wife  where  I  had  been.  But  she  was  as  mad 
as  a  devil  and  nothing  but  ill  words  between  us  aU  the  evening  while  we  sat 
at  cards,  even  to  gross  ill  words,  which  I  was  troubled. for. 

My  wife  extraordinary  fine  to-day  in  her  flower  tabby  suit  bought  a  year 


90  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

and  more  ago  before  my  mother's  death  put  her  into  moiiming  and  so  not 
worn  tiU  Ihis  day  ;  and  everybody  in  love  with  it ;  and  indeed  she  is  very 
fine  and  handsome  in  it. 

My  wife  fell  into  her  blubbering  ...  and  then  all  come  out  that  I  loved 
pleasure  and  denied  her  any  ...  I  said  nothing  but  with  very  mild  words 
and  few  suffered  her  humour  to  spend  tiU  we  begun  to  be  very  quiet  and  I 
think  all  will  be  over  and  friends. 

This  evening  I  observed  my  wife  mighty  dull  and  I  myself  was  not  mighty 
fond  because  of  some  hard  words  she  did  give  me  at  noon  out  of  jealousy  of 
my  being  abroad  this  morning  .  .  .  but  I  to  bed  thinking  but  she  would  come 
after  me  .  .  .  after  an  hour  or  two  she  silent  and  I  now  and  then  praying  her 
to  come  to  bed  she  feU  out  into  a  fury  that  I  was  a  rogue  and  false  to  her. 
I  did,  as  I  might  truly,  deny  it  and  was  mightily  troubled  but  all  would  not 
serve.  At  last  about  one  o'clock  she  came  to  my  side  of  the  bed  and  drew 
my  curtain  open  and  with  tongs  red  hot  at  the  ends  made  as  if  she  did  design 
to  pinch  me  with  them  at  which  in  dismay  I  rose  up  and  with  a  few  words 
she  laid  them  down  and  did  little  by  little  very  siUily  let  all  the  discourse  fall 
and  about  two,  but  with  much  seeming  difficulty  come  to  bed  and  there  lay 
well  aU  night  and  long  in  bed  talking  together  with  much  pleasure. 

Pepys's  susceptibility  to  female  beauty  which  so  often  caused 
his  wife  anguish  was  incorrigible.  He  never  fails  to  express  his 
admiration  of  Lady  Castlemaine  after  he  has  seen  her,  and  after- 
wards of  Mrs.  Stewart,  Nell  Gwyn  and  many  others  both  high 
and  low.  He  describes  it  as  "  a  strange  slavery  that  I  stand  in 
to  beauty,  that  I  value  nothing  near  it." 

Even  in  church  he  was  distracted  by  his  amorous  passions  : 

Stood  by  a  pretty  modest  maid  whom  I  did  labour  to  take  by  the  hand  ; 
but  she  would  not  but  got  further  and  further  from  me  ;  and  at  last,  I  could 
perceive  her  to  take  pins  out  of  her  pocket  to  prick  me  if  I  sho-ald  touch  her 
again,  which  seeing  I  did  forbear  and  was  glad  I  did  spy  her  design.  And 
then  I  fell  to  gaze  on  another  pretty  maid  in  a  pew  close  to  me  and  she  on 
me  ;  and  I  did  go  aboiit  to  take  her  by  the  hand  which  she  suffered  a  httle  and 
then  withdrew.  So  the  sermon  ended  and  church  broke  up  and  my  amours 
ended  also. 

He  was  a  great  church-goer  (from  social  rather  than  rehgious 
motives)  and  invariably  notes  the  sermon  with  some  comment, 
such  as  "  a  sorry  silly  sermon,"  "  heard  a  man  play  the  fool," 
"  an  unnecessary  sermon,"  "  full  of  action  but  very  decent  and 
good."  But  his  two  mastering  passions  were  music  and  the 
drama.  The  vow  he  made  with  regard  to  drink  included  also 
play-going,  but  in  respect  to  the  latter  it  entirely  broke  down 
and  he  remained  an  inveterate  play-goer. 

Troubled  in  mind  that  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  mind  my  business  but  to 
be  so  much  in  love  of  plays. 


1 


SAMUEL   PEPYS  91 

Sat  by  Colonel  Reamea  who  understands  and  loves  a  play  as  wqU  as  I  do 
and  I  love  him  for  it. 

The  plays  he  saw  were  innumerable  and  of  every  description. 
He  is  critical  both  about  the  play  and  the  acting : 

To  the  Duke  of  Yorks  playhouse  and  there  saw  "  Mustapha  "  which  the 
more  I  see  the  more  I  like  and  is  a  most  admirable  poem  and  bravely  acted  ; 
only  both  Betterton  and  Harris  could  not  contain  from  laughing  in  the  midst 
of  a  most  serious  part  from  the  ridiculous  mistake  of  one  of  the  men  upon 
the  stage  :   which  I  did  not  like. 

The  play  was  a  new  play  and  infinitely  f uU  the  King  and  all  the  court  there. 
It  is  "  the  Storme  "  a  play  of  Fletchers' :   which  is  but  so-so  methinks. 

He  was  no  admirer  of  Shakespeare.  Romeo  and  Juliet,  "  a 
play  of  itself  the  worst  that  ever  I  heard."  Midsummer  Nighfs 
Dream,  "  which  I  had  never  seen  before  nor  shall  ever  again 
for  it  is  the  most  insipid  ridiculous  play  that  ever  I  saw  in  my 
hfe."  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  "  which  did  not  please  me 
at  all  in  no  part  of  it."  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  "  a  silly  play 
and  an  old  one." 

He  generally  sat  in  the  pit  (the  stalls)  and  spent  several  shillings 
on  oranges.  Of  course  he  went  behind  the  scenes  frequently 
as  he  had  many  friends  among  the  actresses. 

Here  is  the  best  description  of  the  other  side  of  the  curtain  : 

To  the  King's  house  :  and  there  going  in  met  with  Knipp  and  she  took 
us  up  into  the  tireing  rooms  ;  and  to  the  womens'  shift  where  Nell  was  dressing 
herself  and  was  all  unready,  and  is  very  pretty,  prettier  than  I  thought.  And 
into  the  scene  room  and  there  sat  down  and  she  gave  us  fruit.  .  .  .  But  Lord 
to  see  how  they  were  both  painted  would  make  a  man  mad  and  did  make  me 
loath  them  ;  and  what  base  company  of  men  comes  among  them  and  how 
lewdly  they  talk  !  And  how  poor  the  men  are  in  clothes  and  yet  what  a  show 
they  make  on  the  stage  by  candle  light  is  very  observable.  But  to  see  how 
Nell  CTirsed  for  having  so  few  people  in  the  pit  was  pretty  ;  the  other  house 
carrying  away  all  the  people  at  the  new  play  and  is  said  nowadays  to  have 
generally  most  companj^  as  being  better  players.  By  and  by  into  the  pit  and 
there  saw  the  play  which  is  pretty  good. 

But  acting  and  even  beautiful  women  were  secondary  with 
Pepys  compared  to  his  love  of  music.  For  not  only  was  he 
rapturously  fond  of  listening  to  it,  but  he  played  several  instru- 
ments, he  sang  and  he  composed.  So  much  so  that  in  after  life 
there  are  notes  in  his  letters  saying  it  is  "  still  my  utmost  luxury  " 
and  referring  no  doubt  to  his  growing  blindness  "  music  was  never 
of  more  use  to  me  than  it  is  now."  The  references  to  music  are 
far  too  numerous  to  be  sufficiently  quoted  to  show  what  a  large 
part  of  his  time  was  occupied  with  it.     But  as  some  of  the  most 


92 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 


charming  passages  in  the  diary  have  music  as  their  background; 
a  few  examples  must  be  given  : 

Coming  in,  I  find  my  wife  plainly  dissatisfied  with  me  that  I  can  spend  so 
much  time  with  Mercer  teaching  her  to  sing  and  coiild  not  take  the  pains  with 
her  which  I  acknowledge,  but  it  is  because  that  the  girl  do  take  musique 
mighty  readily  and  she  do  not  and  musique  is  the  thing  of  the  world  that  I 
love  most. 

To  the  King's  House  to  see  "  the  virgin  Martyr  "...  that  which  did  please 
me  beyond  anji:hing  in  the  whole  world  was  the'wind-musique  when  the  angel 
comes  down,  which  is  so  sweet  that  it  ravished  me  and  indeed  in  a  word  did 
wrap  up  my  soul  so  that  it  made  me  really  sick,  just  as  I  have  formerly  been 
when  in  love  with  my  wife  ;  that  neither  then  nor  all  the  evening  going  home 
and  at  home,  I  was  able  to  think  of  anything  but  remained  all  night  trans- 
ported so  as  I  could  not  believe  that  ever  any  miosic  hath  that  real  command 
over  the  soul  of  a  man  as  this  did  upon  me  ;  and  makes  me  resolve  to  practice 
wind-musique  and  to  make  my  wife  do  the  like. 

I  played  also,  which  I  have  not  done  this  long  time  before  upon  any  instru- 
ment and  at  last  broke  up  and  I  to  my  office  a  little  while  being  fearful  of 
being  too  much  taken  with  musique  for  fear  of  returning  to  my  old  dotage 
thereon  and  so  neglect  my  bvisiness  as  I  used  to  do. 

I  by  water  at  night  late  to  Sir  G.  Carteret's  but  there  being  no  one  to  carry  me 
I  was  fain  to  call  a  skuller  that  had  a  gentleman  already  in  it,  and  he  proved 
a  man  of  love  to  musique  and  he  and  I  sung  together  the  way  down  with  great 
pleasure  and  an  incident  extraordinary  to  be  met  with. 

[Even  as  he  walked  along]  .  .  .  humming  to  myself  (which  now  a  days  is  my 
constant  practice  since  I  began  to  learn  to  sing)  the  trillo  and  find  by  use 
that  it  do  come  upon  me. 

[While  Hales  paints  his  wife's  portrait]  while  he  painted,  Knipp,  Mercer 
and  I  sang. 

Wife  did  a  little  business  while  Mercer  and  I  staid  in  the  coach  and  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  I  taught  her  the  whole  Larke's  song  perfectlj"^  so  excellent 
an  ear  she  hath. 

Reluctantly  indeed  must  we  pass  on  from  these  and  many  other 
quotations  showing  him  playing  his  many  instruments,  teaching 
his  wife,  criticising  and  appreciating  the  music  he  hears,  and 
composing  his  songs,  the  chief  one  of  which  was  "  Beauty  Retire." 

Pepys  was  a  courtier.  His  business  brought  him  into  close 
contact  with  the  King,  the  Duke  of  York,  and  what  he  calls  "  very 
high  company."  While  he  thoroughly  enjoys  the  pomp  and 
circumstances  of  Court  life,  he  fully  realises  the  dissolute  char- 
acter of  Charles  II's  entourage.  He  cannot  refrain  from  admiring 
the  King's  various  mistresses,  but  he  deplores  the  general  tone 
of  the  Court  and  foresees  trouble  :  "  every  day  things  look  worse 
and  worse.     God  fit  us  for  the  worst."    While  he  himself  is 


SAMUEL   PEPYS  93 

mightily  pleased  at  a  word  from  the  King,  the  sycophancy  and 
adulation  of  courtiers  sicken  him. 

He  was  an  embarrassingly  close  observer  of  Lady  Castlemaine 
whenever  he  saw  her  : 

One  thing  of  familiarity  I  observed  in  my  Lady  Castlemaine  :  she  called  to 
one  of  her  women  for  a  little  patch  off  of  her  face  and  put  it  into  her  mouth 
and  wetted  it  and  so  clapped  it  upon  her  own  by  the  side  of  her  mouth,  I  suppose 
she  feeling  a  pinaple  rising  there. 

The  constant  references  to  the  King's  amours  are  not  very 
edifying,  nor  indeed  interesting.  He  pictures  the  King  in  Council 
making  inane  remarks  or  playing  with  Ms  dog  instead  of  listening 
to  the  business,  and  at  the  tennis  court : 

but  to  see  how  the  King's  play  was  extolled  without  any  cause  at  all  was  a 
loathsome  sight  though  sometimes  indeed  he  did  play  very  well  and  deserved 
to  be  commended ;    but  such  open  flattery  is  beastly. 

Pepys  was  quite  shrewd  enough  to  see  that  the  Court  were 
riding  for  a  fall.  He  disapproved  strongly  of  the  Duke  of  York's 
advice  to  the  King  to  rule  without  a  parUament,  and  he  sums  up 
the  situation  when  Parhament  is  dissolved  in  1667 : 

Thus  they  are  dismissed  again  to  their  general  great  distaste,  I  believe  the 
greatest  that  ever  Parliament  was,  to  see  themselves  so  fooled  and  the  nation  in 
certain  condition  of  ruin  while  the  King,  they  see,  is  only  governed  by  his  lust, 
and  women,  and  rogues  about  him. 

The  best  epitome  of  the  situation  that  any  historian  could 
make. 

Pepys  was  a  zealous  official  and  there  are  many  entries  with 
regard  to  his  work,  the  naval  policy  of  the  day  and  the  war  with 
Holland.  His  general  estimate  of  the  Duke  of  York  in  connection 
with  the  Navy  is  favourable.  But  he  is  often  in  despair  at  the 
state  of  affairs : 

All  the  morning  I  was  much  troubled  to  think  what  the  end  of  our  great 
sluggishness  will  be,  for  we  do  nothing  in  this  office  hke  people  able  to  carry 
on  a  war. 

His  great  opportunity  came  when  he  was  called  to  the  Bar  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  there  made  his  celebrated  defence 
of  naval  administration  before  a  very  hostile  House. 

I  began  our  defence  most  acceptably  and  smoothly  and  continued  at  it 
without  any  hesitation  or  losse  but  with  full  scope  and  all  my  reason  free  about 
me  as  if  it  had  been  at  my  own  table. 

The  speech  was  a  huge  success. 


94  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

All  the  world  that  was  within  hearing  did  congratulate  me  and  cry  up  my 
speech  as  the  best  thing  they  ever  heard. 

The  King  said  "  Mr.  Pepys  I  am  very  glad  of  your  success  yesterday." 

No  wonder  we  read  later  : 

and  my  great  design  if  I  continue  in  the  Navy  is  to  get  myself  to  be  a  Par- 
liament man. 

During  the  terrible  days  of  the  Plague,  Pepys  remained  at  his 
post  and  gives  descriptions  of  the  gruesome  scenes  and  his  con- 
stant sight  of  corpses  in  the  streets.  Of  the  fire,  too,  he  was  also 
an  eye-witness  : 

Staid  tiU  it  was  dark  almost  and  saw  the  fire  grow  ;  and  as  it  grew  darker 
appeared  more  and  more  ;  and  in  corners  and  upon  steeples  and  between 
churches  and  houses  as  far  as  we  could  see  up  the  hill  of  the  City  m  a  most 
horrid,  malicious,  bloody  flame  not  like  the  fine  flame  of  an  ordinary  fire  .  .  . 
we  saw  the  fire  as  only  one  entire  arch  of  fire  from  this  to  the  other  side  of  the 
bridge  and  in  a  bow  up  the  hill  for  an  arch  of  above  a  mile  long  ;  it  made  me 
weep  to  see  it. 

Pepys'  capacity  for  being  interested  and  entertained  by  ex- 
periences of  widely  different  characters  might  be  illustrated  by 
his  delightful  description  on  the  one  hand  of  the  Shepherd  on  the 
Downs,  and  on  the  other  hand  of  the  gambhng  scene  at  the 
"  Groome  Porters."  But  justice  cannot  be  done  to  either  without 
very  long  extracts. 

In  quest  of  experiences  indeed  he  once  goes  into  very  low 
company  and  ends  his  account  of  it : 

But  Lord  !  What  loose  company  was  this  that  I  was  in  to-night,  though 
full  of  wit  and  worth  a  man's  being  in  for  once  to  know  the  nature  of  it,  and 
their  manner  of  talk  and  lives. 

This  is  Pepys'  secret,  nothing  was  above  or  beneath  him.     To 
the  appeal  of  human  nature  in  all  its  various  disguises  he  was  ever 
ready  to  respond — only  sohtude  to  him  was  intolerable.     His 
,,  extreme  sociability  helped  him. 

Dined  alone ;   sad  for  want  of  company  and  know  not  how  to  eat  alono. 

His  passing  comments  and  characterisation  in  a  line  or  two  on 
people  he  meets  are  often  inimitable : 

Aunt  James  ;  a  poor,  religious,  well  meaning,  good  soul  talking  of  nothing 
but  God  Almighty  and  that  with  so  much  innocence  that  mightily  pleased  me. 

Dr.  Tom  Pepys  is  dead  for  which  I  am  but  little  sorry  not  only  because  he 
would  have  been  troublesome  to  us,  but  a  shame  to  his  family  and  profession 
— he  was  such  a  coxcomb. 


SAMUEL   PEPYS  95 

Lady  Crewe  ;    the  same  weak  silly  lady  as  ever  asking  saintly  questions. 

Mr,  Case  :  a  dull  fellow  in  his  talk  and  all  in  the  Presbyterian  manner  ;  a 
great  deal  of  noise  and  a  kind  of  religious  tone,  but  very  dull. 

Mrs.  Horsfield  ;  one  of  the  veriest  citizen's  wives  in  the  world,  so  fxoll  of 
little  silly  talk  and  now  and  then  a  little  slyly  indecent. 

Nothing  has  been  said  of  the  books  he  read,  bought,  collected, 
and  had  bound.  It  was  yet  another  hobby  of  his  and  the  one 
to  which  in  his  old  age  he  devoted  much  attention,  with  the  result 
that  his  collection  is  handed  down  to  us  in  the  Pepysian  Ubrary 
at  Cambridge.  He  must  have  spent  a  great  sum  on  books,  though 
he  was  by  nature  extremely  careful  about  his  money. 

Every  year  he  gives  us  a  note  of  his  balance,  which  gradually 
grows  as  his  position  improves.  Throughout  he  maintains  his 
loyalty  and  gratitude  to  his  original  patron.  Lord  Sandwich,  to 
whom  when  his  lordship  was  out  of  favour  he  writes  an  admir- 
able letter  of  respectful  advice. 

Although  the  diary  is  regularly  kept,  the  entries  vary  in  length. 
The  political  situation  or  some  particularly  entertaining  ex- 
perience sometimes  occupies  several  pages.  But  the  briefest  one 
line  entry  somehow  gives  one  a  faithful  reflection  of  mood  as  well 
as  of  event ;  for  instance,  "  April  4.  Home,  and  being  washing- 
day,  dined  upon  cold  meat,"  or  to  take  an  example  of  his  more 
compressed  style,  packing  all  the  events  of  the  day  into  a  few 
lines : 

April  10.  Friday.  All  the  morning  at  office.  At  noon  with  W.  Penn 
to  Duke  of  York  and  attended  Council.  So  to  Duck  Lane  and  then  kissed 
bookseller's  wife,  and  bought  Legend.  So  home,  coach.  Sailor.  Mrs. 
Hannam  dead.     News  of  peace.     Conning  my  gamut. 

No  doubt  the  Pepys  of  the  later  years  became  more  discreet, 
more  important,  and  probably  less  frivolous.  But  we  must  part 
from  him,  not  because  we  lose  interest  in  him,  but  simply  because 
he  ceases  to  be  a  diarist. 


JOHN  EVELYN 

EVELYN'S  diary  covers  more  than  half  a  century,  1640- 
1706.  There  is  a  natural  inclination  to  draw  a  comparison 
between  the  journals  of  Evelyn  and  Pepys.  But  although 
the  two  diarists  were  contemporaries  and  friends,  and  although 
they  came  across  many  common  acquaintances  in  their  official 
and  Court  experiences,  they  did  not  hve  in  the  same  stratum  of 
society,  and  their  method,  their  motive,  their  point  of  view,  their 
manner  and  their  characters  were  so  completely  different  that 
except  for  the  fact  that  they  refer  to  the  same  people  and  the 
same  events,  the  two  celebrated  journals  that  have  been  handed 
down  to  us  have  very  little  resemblance,  and  they  seem  to  call 
for  different  moods  in  the  reader.  Pepys  covers  a  period  of  a 
little  over  eight  years,  Evelyn  a  period  of  sixty-six  years,  but 
Pepys'  diary  is  longer  than  Evelyn's.  Pepys  wrote  daily,  Evelyn 
wrote  intermittently.  Pepys  left  his  diary  untouched,  Evelyn's 
is  written  up  at  subsequent  dates,  so  much  so  that  it  comes  very 
near  to  being  memoirs.  Unlike  Pepys,  Evelyn  indulges  in  no 
introspection,  and  except  for  his  tastes  and  his  political  views  we 
do  not  get  in  the  pages  of  his  diary  any  intimate  revelation  of  his 
character.  In  fact,  we  have  to  go  to  Pepys  for  a  view  of  him 
which  mitigates  the  rather  severe  and  sedate  impression  which 
his  own  writing  seems  to  suggest.  Just  as  Evelyn's  estimate 
of  Pepys  portrays  a  more  dignified  figure  than  we  might  otherwise 
have  expected,  so  in  Pepys'  estimate  of  Evelyn  we  get  a  more 
human  picture  than  Evelyn  himself  gives  us.  Pepys  refers  to  him 
as  "  a  very  fine  gentleman  "  and  "  a  most  excellent  humoured 
man  "  and  tells  the  following  anecdote : 

The  receipt  of  this  news  [a  successful  engagement  against  the  Dutch]  did 
put  us  all  into  such  an  extasy  of  joy  that  it  inspired  into  Sir  J.  Minns  and  Mr. 
Evelyn  such  a  spirit  of  mirth  that  in  all  my  life  I  never  met  with  so  merry  a 
two  hours  as  oiu*  company  this  night  was.  Among  other  humours,  Mr. 
Evelyn  repeating  of  some  verses  made  up  of  nothing  but  the  various  accepta- 
tions of  '>nay  and  can  and  doing  it  so  aptly  upon  occasion  of  something  of  that 
nature  and  so  fast  did  make  us  all  die  almost  with  laughing  and  did  so  stop 

96 


JOHN  EVELYN  97 

the  mouth  of  Sir  J.  Minns  in  the  middle  of  aU  his  mirth,  and  in  a  thing  agreeing 
with  his  own  manner  of  genius,  that  I  never  saw  any  man  so  outdone  in  all 
my  life ;  and  Sir  J.  Minus's  mirth  too  to  see  himself  outdone  was  the  crown  of  aU 
our  mirth. 

Pepysalso  describes  a  visit  to  Evelyn,  who,  after  showing  him 
his  art  treasures, 

read  to  me  very  much  also  of  his  discourse  he  hath  been  many  years  and  now 
IS  about,  about  Gardenage  ;  which  wiU  be  a  most  noble  and  pleasant  piece 
He  read  me  part  of  a  play  or  two  of  his  making,  very  good,  but  not  as  he 
conceits  them,  I  think,  to  be.  ...  In  fine  a  most  exceUent  person  he  is  and 
must  be  allowed  a  little  for  a  little  conceitedness  ;  but  he  may  weU  be  so 
being  a  man  so  much  above  others.  He  read  me  through,  with  too  much 
gusto,  some  little  poems  of  his  own  that  were  not  transcendant,  yet  one  or 
two  very  pretty  epigrams. 

They  remained    close   friends   for   many   years,    and   Evelyn 
records  a  visit  to  Pepys  in  1700,  when  he  himself  was  80  and  Pepys 

tJr'^'nV"'^^  5';  ^'P^'  ^*  ^^P^^""  ^^^^^  ^^  h^«  ^  ^^'y  ^«ble  and  wonder- 
fully well  furnished  house  especially  with  Indian  and  Chinese  curiosities. 
the  offices  and  gardens  well  accommodated  for  pleasure  and  retirement. 

John  Evelyn  was  born    at  Wotton  House,  near   Dorking    in 
l^^?C    S^Tf '  ^^"^ated  at  Balhol  College,  Oxford,  and  admitted 
to  the  Middle  Temple.     In  1652  he  settled  at  Sayes  Court,  at 
IJeptlord.     He  enjoyed   unbroken    Court   favour   but   he   never 
held  any  important  official  post.     In  a  minor  capacity  he  did 
much  useful  and  laborious  work  as  commissioner  for  improving 
the  streets   and  buildings  of  London,   for  examining  into  the 
affairs  of  charitable  foundations,  as  commissioner  of  the  Mint  and 
of  foreign  plantations.     He  was  one  of  the  founders,  and  after- 
wards Secretary  of  the  Royal  Society,  but  refused  the  position 
of  President  which  was  offered  to  him  and  later  he  was  Treasurer 
of  Greenwich  Hospital.     In  1694  he  left  Sayes  Court  to  hve  at 
Wotton  with  his  brother,  whom  he  succeeded  in  1699.     Evelyn 
was  a  country  gentleman  of  means,  a  patron  of  art,  and  a  writer 
ot  many  books  on  horticulture,  science,  and  pohtics,  the  most 
important  of  which  was  Sylva,  a  work  on  arboriculture  and  a  plea 
for  afforestation      He  died  at  the  age  of  86.     Living  as  he  did 
from  the  Civil  War  tiU  after  James  IPs  flight,  he  was  the  witness 
ot  many  remarkable  events. 

He  must  have  begun  diary  writing  in  1640  or  even  before,  and 
he  kept  It  up  till  within  a  month  of  his  death.  In  writing  up  the 
diary  he  gives  an  autobiographical  note  of  his  early  life,  and  many 
entries  are  clearly  inserted  some  time  after  the  events  recorded 


98  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

as  there  are  several  confusions  in  the  dates.  It  is  probable  that 
he  wrote  memoranda  at  the  time,  and  then  transcribed  and 
amplified  them  subsequently.  Mr.  Austin  Dobson  in  his  preface 
to  the  diary  says  that  the  diary  was  "  obviously  never  intended 
for  pubhcation "  Evelyn  was  quietly,  briefly  and  methodic- 
ally noting  what  seemed  to  him  worthy  of  remembrance. 

Although  from  the  psychological  point  of  view  we  are  not 
admitted  to  any  very  close  inspection  of  Evelyn's  inner  character, 
nevertheless  we  get  the  general  impression  from  his  opinions,  tastes 
and  occupations  of  a  very  high-minded,  cultivated  and  refined 
man  of  domestic  habits,  without  perhaps  much  sparkle  or  vnt,  but 
shrewdly  observant  and  with  considerable  literary  aptitude  and 
a  great  deal  of  scientific  knowledge.  ^ 

In  his  earher  years  he  travels  a  great  deal,  making  a  Grand 
Tour  "  in  France,  Italy  and  Flanders.  He  gives  his  impressions 
at  great  length,  but  as  we  have  already  noted,  travellers'  experi- 
ences and  description  of  foreign  scenery  and  monuments  are 
seldom  interesting  reading.  Between  his  journeys  he  is  in  Lon- 
don, not  apparently  engaged  in  any  occupation. 

Jan.  19.  I  went  to  London  where  I  stayed  tiU  March  5  studying  a  little 
but  dancing  and  fooling  more. 

At  the  age  of  32  he  describes  an  exciting  and  dangerous  adven- 
ture he  has  with  two  cut-throats,  who  set  on  him  three  miles 
from  Bromley,  robbed  him  and  tied  him  up  to  a  tree. 

Left  in  this  manner  grievously  was  I  tormented  with  flies,  ants  and  the  sun 
nor  was  my  anxiety  little  how  I  should  get  loose  in  that  solitary  place  where  I 
could  neither  hear  nor  see  any  creature  but  my  poor  horse  and  a  few  sheep 
straggling  in  the  copse. 

However,  with  great  efforts,  he  manages  to  loosen  his  hands 
and  get  free  and  he  afterwards  recovers  the  rings,  buckles,  and 
onyx  seal  of  which  he  had  been  robbed. 

From  the  earliest  times  Evelyn  shows  a  particular  appreciation 
of  works  of  art  and  throughout  the  diary  he  refers  constantly 
to  pictures,  prints  and  all  manner  of  objets  d'art  which  he  comes 
across,  so  that  rare  perspectives,  miniatures,  landscapes,  anti- 
quities, relievos,  collections  of  tailU  douces,  vases  of  porcelain, 
brasses,  cabinets  of  maroquin,  tapestries,  medals,  intagUos,  etc., 
etc.,  figure  very  frequently  in  his  diary.  The  following  entry 
characteristic  of  his  artistic  tastes  may  be  given  : 

Came  old  Jerome  Laniere  of  Greenwich  a  man  skilled  in  painting  and  music 
and  another  rare  musician  called  Mell.  I  went  to  see  his  collection  of  pictures 
especially  those  of  Julio  Romano  which  sure  had  been  the  King  s  and  an 


JOHN  EVELYN  99 

Egyptian  figiire  etc.  There  were  also  excellent  things  of  Polydore  Guido, 
Raphael,  and  Tintoretto.  Laniere  had  been  a  domestic  of  Queen  Elizabeth 
and  showed  me  her  head,  an  intaglio  in  rare  sardonyx  cut  by  a  famous 
Italian  which  he  assured  me  was  exceeding  like  her. 

Evelyn's  greatest  artistic  achievement  we  may  safely  say  was 
his  discovery  of  Grinhng  Gibbons,  the  great  carver  in  wood.  We 
will  let  him  tell  the  story  in  his  own  words  : 

1670-1.  Jan.  18.  This  day  I  first  acquainted  his  Majesty  with  that 
incomparable  young  man.  Gibbons,  whom  I  had  lately  met  with  in  an  obscure 
place  by  mere  accident  as  I  was  walking  near  a  poor  solitary  thatched  house 
in  a  field  in  our  parish  near  Sayes  Court.  I  found  him  shut  in  ;  but  looking 
in  at  the  window  I  perceived  him  carving  that  large  cartoon  or  crucifix  of 
Tintoretto.  ...  I  asked  if  I  might  enter ;  he  opened  the  door  civilly  to  me 
and  I  saw  him  about  such  a  work  as  for  the  curiosity  of  handling,  drawing 
and  studious  exactness  I  never  had  before  seen  in  all  my  travels.  I  questioned 
him  why  he  worked  in  such  an  obscure  and  lonesome  place ;  he  told  me  it 
was  that  he  might  apply  himself  to  his  profession  without  interruption  and 
wondered  not  a  little  how  I  found  him  out.  (Gibbons  tells  him  he  would  Uke 
to  sell  that  piece  for  £100.)  In  good  earnest  the  very  frame  was  worth  the 
money  there  being  nothing  in  nature  so  tender  and  delicate  as  the  flowers 
and  festoons  about  it  and  yet  the  work  was  very  strong.  ...  I  found  he  was 
likewise  musical  and  very  civil  and  sober  and  discreet  in  his  discoiu-se. 

Charles  II  comes  round   to  Sir  Richard   Browne's  (Evel3m's 
father-in-law)  chamber  to  see  the  carving. 

No  sooner  was  he  entered  and  cast  his  eye  on  the  work  but  he  was  astonished 
at  the  curiosity  of  it  and  having  considered  it  a  long  time  and  discoursed  to 
Mr.  Gibbons  whom  I  had  brought  to  kiss  his  hand  he  commanded  that  it 
shoiild  be  immediately  carried  to  the  Queen's  side  to  show  her.  It  was 
carried  up  into  her  bedchamber  when  she  and  the  King  looked  on  and  admired 
it  again  ,•  the  King  being  called  away  left  us  with  the  Queen  believing  she 
would  have  bought  it,  it  being  a  crucifix  ;  but  when  His  Majesty  was  gone  a 
French  peddling  woman  one  Madame  de  Boord  who  used  to  bring  petticoats 
and  fans  and  baubles  out  of  France  to  the  ladies,  began  to  find  fault  with 
several  things  in  the  work  which  she  understood  no  more  than  an  ass  or  a 
monkey,  so  as  in  a  kind  of  indignation  I  caused  the  person  who  brought  it  to 
carry  it  back  to  the  chamber  finding  the  Queen  so  much  governed  by  an 
Ignorant  Frenchwoman  and  this  incomparible  artist  had  his  labour  only  for 
hie  pains  which  not  a  little  displeased  me. 

Nevertheless,  Gibbons'  reputation  grew  and  Evelyn  tells  us 
seventeen  years  later  in  the  next  reign  that  in  the  Queen's  apart- 
ment in  Whitehall,  "the  carving  about  the  chimney  piece  by 
Gibbons  is  incomparable." 

In  addition  to  art,  Eveljoi's  interests  were  of  the  most  varied 
description.  We  find  him  discoursing  at  considerable  length  on 
all  sorts  of  mechanical  devices,  strange  clocks,  an  engine  for 
weaving  silk  stockings,  a  diving  bell,  musical  instruments,  glass 


100  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

works,  paper  mills,  fireworks,  rattle  snakes,  a  whale,  a  rhinoceros, 
a  fire  eater,  a  knife  swallower,  and  a  hairy  woman.  But  first  and 
foremost  came  his  love  of  gardens  and  his  intense  interest  not 
only  in  his  o^^'n,  but  in  the  many  he  inspects.  It  is  impossible 
to  give  a  large  selection  of  his  charming  descriptions  as  they  are 
generally  long  and  elaborate.     A  few  must  suffice : 

Marden.  .  .  .  It  is  in  such  a  solitude  among  hills  as  being  not  above  sixteen 
miles  from  London  seems  almost  incredible,  the  ways  up  to  it  are  so  winding 
and  intricate.  The  gardens  are  large  and  well  walled  and  the  husbandry 
part  made  very  convenient  and  perfectly  understood.  .  .  .  Innumerable  are 
the  plantations  of  trees  especially  walnuts.  The  orangery  and  gardens  are 
very  curiovis.  .  .  .  This  place  is  exceeding  sharp  in  Winter  by  reason  of  the 
serpentining  of  the  hiUs  and  it  wants  running  water ;  but  the  solitude  much 
pleased  me.  All  the  ground  is  so  full  of  wild  thyme,  marjoram  and  other 
sweet  plants  that  it  cannot  be  overstocked  with  bees  ;  I  think  he  had  near 
forty  hives  of  that  industrious  insect. 

Windsor.  .  .  The  Castle  itself  is  large  in  circumference ;  but  the  rooms 
melancholy  and  of  ancient  magnificence.  The  keep  or  mount  hath  besides 
its  incomparable  prospect,  a  very  profoimd  well ;  and  the  terrace  towards 
Eton  with  park,  meandering  Thajnes,  and  sweet  meadows  yield  one  of  the 
most  deUghtful  prospects. 

Swallowfield .  .  .  the  gardens  and  waters  as  elegant  as  it  is  possible  to  make 
a  flat  by  art  and  industry  and  no  mean  expense,  my  lady  [Lady  Clarendon] 
being  so  extraordinarily  skilled  in  the  flowery  part  and  my  lord  in  dihgence 
of  planting  ;  so  that  I  have  hardly  seen  a  seat  which  shows  more  tokens  of  it 
than  what  is  to  be  found  here  not  only  in  the  delicious  and  rarest  fruits  of  a 
garden,  but  in  those  innmnerable  timber  trees  in  the  gi'ound  about  the  seat 
to  the  greatest  ornament  and  benefit  of  the  place.  .  .  .  The  garden  is  so 
beset  with  all  manner  of  sweet  shrubs  that  it  perfmnes  the  air.  The  dis- 
tribution also  of  the  quarters  walks  and  parterres  is  excellent.  .  .  .  There 
is  also  a  certain  sweet  willow  and  other  exotics  ;  also  a  very  fine  bowling  green 
meadow  pasture  and  wood ;  in  a  word  all  that  can  render  a  country  seat 
delightful. 

Politically  Evelyn  was  a  staunch  Royalist,  but  his  opinions 
did  not  carry  him  to  any  heroic  length. 

After  the  trial  of  Strafford  and  the  severance  from  its  shoulders 
of  "  the  wisest  head  in  England  "  he  discreetly  withdraws  him- 
self for  a  season,  "  from  this  ill  face  of  things  at  home  "  and  during 
the  Commonwealth  and  the  Protectorate,  although  he  clung 
consistently  to  the  traditions  of  the  Church,  he  was  far  too  cautious 
to  allow  his  resistance  to  take  any  active  form.  After  the  Re- 
storation he  is  in  high  favour  at  Court,  and  he  always  refers  to 
"  the  Usurper  Ohver  "  and  his  followers  in  terms  of  the  greatest 
disparagement.  On  the  return  of  Charles,  of  whom  he  had  seen 
a  good  deal  during  his  exile,  Evelyn  goes  with  the  Sussex  gentle- 
men to  present  an  Address  : 


JOHN  EVELYN  lOi 

I  kissed  His  Majesty's  hand  who  was  pleased  to  own  me  more  particularly 
by  calling  me  his  old  acquaintance  and  speaking  very  graciously  to  me. 

Charles  consults  him  about  the  smoke  nuisance,  which  even 
in  those  days  was  being  tackled  and  about  which  Evelyn  \vTote 
Ms  Fumifugium  which  he  dedicated  to  the  King.  He  has  con- 
versations with  him  about  bees,  gardens,  arboriculture  and  new 
designs  for  rebuilding  Whitehall.  The  King  also  commissions 
him  to  write  on  the  Dutch  war, 

enjoining  me  to  make  it  a  little  keen  for  that  the  Hollanders  had  very  unhand- 
somely abused  him  in  their  pictures,  books  and  libels. 

Of  the  strange  royal  ceremony  of  touching  for  the  e\d\  there 
is  a  full  description  : 

1660.  His  Majesty  began  first  to  touch  for  the  evil  according  to  custom 
thus  ;  His  Majesty  sitting  imder  his  state  in  the  Banqueting-house  the 
chirurgeons  cause  the  sick  to  be  brought  or  led  up  to  the  throne,°where  they 
kneeling,  the  King  strokes  their  faces  or  cheeks  with  both  his  hands  at  once 
at  which  instant  a  chaplain  in  his  formalities  says  "  He  put  liis  hands  upon 
them  and  he  healed  them."  When  they  have  all  been  touched  they  come  up 
again  in  the  same  order  and  the  other  chaplain  kneeling  and  having  angel 
gold  [a  coin  with  the  figure  of  an  angel  on  it]  stnmg  on  white  ribbon'^on  his 
arm  dehvers  them  one  by  one  to  His  Majesty  who  puts  them  about  the  necks 
of  the  touched  as  they  pass  whilst  the  first  chaplain  repeats  "  This  is  the  true 
light  that  came  into  the  world." 

Charles  is  said  to  have  "  touched  "  nearly  a  hundred  thousand 
people  during  his  reign. 

Pageants  and  ceremonies  and  attendance  at  Court,  however, 
were  not  greatly  to  Evelyn's  liking,  for  he  says  : 

I  came  home  to  be  private  a  little  not  at  all  a£Eecting  the  life  and  hurry  of 
Court. 

He  gives  us  the  following  description  of  the  Queen  : 

She  was  yet  of  the  handsomest  countenance  of  all  the  rest  and  though  low 
of  stature,  prettily  shaped,  langtiishing  and  excellent  eyes,  her  teeth  wronging 
her  mouth  by  sticking  a  little  too  far  out ;   for  the  rest  lovely  enough. 

Evelyn  is  by  no  means  blind  to  the  dissolute  character  of 
the  Court  and  makes  many  references  to  the  King's  mistresses, 
especially  Louise  de  Keroualle  (Duchess  of  Portsmouth)  with 
her  "childish  simple  and  baby  face."  His  final  estimate  of 
Charles  is  worth  quoting  in  full : 

He  was  a  prince  of  many  virtues  and  of  many  imperfections  ;  debonair, 
easy  of  access,  not  bloody  nor  cruel ;  his  countenance  fierce,  his  voice  great, 
proper  of  person,  every  motion  became  him  ;  a  lover  of  the  sea  and  skilful 
in  shipping  ;  not  afiecting  other  studies,  yet  he  had  a  laboratory  and  knew  of 


102  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

many  empirical  medicines  and  the  easier  mechanical  mathematics  ;  he  loved 
planting  and  building  and  brought  in  a  politer  way  of  living  which  passed  to 
luxury  and  intolerable  expense.  He  had  a  particular  talent  in  telling  a  story 
and  facetious  passages  which  he  had  innumerable.  .  .  .  He  took  delight  in 
having  a  number  of  little  spaniels  follow  him  and  lie  in  his  bedchamber  where 
he  often  suffered  the  bitches  to  puppy  and  give  suck,  which  rendered  it  very 
offensive  and  indeed  made  the  whole  court  nasty  and  stinking.  He  would 
doubtless  have  been  an  excellent  prince  had  he  been  less  addicted  to  women 
who  made  him  vmeasy  and  always  in  want  to  supply  their  tmmeasurable 
profusion  .  .  .  his  too  easy  nature  resigned  him  to  be  managed  by  crafty  men 
and  sonae  abandoned  and  profane  wi'etches  who  corrupted  his  otherwise 
sufficient  parts,  disciplined  as  he  had  been  by  many  afflictions  during  his 
banishment  which  gave  him  much  experience  and  knowledge  of  men  and 
things  ;  but  those  wicked  creatures  took  him  from  off  all  application  becom- 
ing so  great  a  King.  .  .  .  He  was  ever  kind  to  nne  and  very  generous  upon  all 
occasions  and  therefore  I  cannot  without  ingratitude  but  deplore  his  loss. 

Evelyn  gives  a  very  full  account  of  the  document  which  Pepys 
had  been  shown  by  James  II,  proving  that  Charles  II  "  both 
was  and  died  a  Roman  Catholic."  Evelyn  as  a  loyal  Protestant 
was  deeply  shocked. 

I  was, — he  says — heartily  sorry  to  see  all  this  though  it  was  no  other  than 
was  to  be  suspected  by  his  late  Majesty's  too  great  indifference,  neglect,  and 
course  of  life.  .  .  .  God  was  incensed  to  make  his  reign  very  troublesome 
and  unprosperous  by  wars,  plagues,  fires,  loss  of  reputation  by  an  universal 
neglect  of  the  public  for  the  love  of  a  voluptuous  and  sensual  life  which  a 
vicious  Court  had  brought  into  credit. 

He  makes  a  very  wrong  estimate  of  James  II's  character  when 
he  says : 

By  what  I  observed  in  this  journey  is  that  infinite  industry,  sedulity, 
gravity  and  great  understanding  and  experience  of  affairs  in  His  Majesty  that 
I  cannot  but  predict  much  happiness  to  the  nation  as  to  its  political  govern- 
ment. 

However,  he  is  soon  disillusioned  and  accepts  the  advent  of 
William  III,  who  with  his  "  thoughtful  countenance  is  wonderful 
serious  and  silent  and  seems  to  treat  all  persons  alike  gravely 
and  to  be  very  intent  on  affairs."  Princess  Anne  he  only  refers 
to  as  making  "  so  little  figure." 

There  are  many  interesting  character  sketches  and  personal 
descriptions  in  the  diary.  He  visits  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  whose 
house  and  garden  he  describes  as  "  a  paradise,"  and  in  addition 
to  courtiers  and  statesmen  he  is  friends  with  artists,  men  of 
letters  and  antiquaries  such  as  Kneller  (who  paints  his  portrait), 
Christopher  Wren,  Ashmole,  Camden  and  Dugdale. 

Evelyn  lived  through  a  time  of  such  stirring  incidents  that  his 
diary  is  a  very  important  supplement  to  the  history  of  the  Stuart 


1 


JOHN  EVELYN  108 

period.     But  in  our  extracts  we  can  only  cull  here  and  there  some 

of  his  most  characteristic  passages. 

It  is  curious  to  note  that  less  than  a  week  before  the  outbreak 
of  the  Great  Fire  of  London  he  was  engaged  in  surveying  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral  and  making  recommendations  for  strengthening 
and  restoring  the  structure.  This  was  on  August  27,  1666,  and 
on  September  3,  the  day  after  the  outbreak,  he  describes  it : 

The  conflagration  was  so  universal  and  the  people  so  astonished  that  from 
the  beginning  I  know  not  by  what  despondency  or  fate  they  hardly  stirred 
to  quench  it ;  so  that  there  was  nothing  heard  or  seen  but  crying  out  and 
lamentation,  running  about  like  distracted  creatures  without  at  all  attempting 
to  save  even  their  goods  ;  such  a  strange  consternation  there  was  upon  them 
so  as  it  burned  both  in  breadth  and  length  the  churches,  public  halls,  Exchange, 
hospitals,  monimaents  and  ornaments  ;  leaping  after  a  prodigious  manner 
from  house  to  house  and  street  to  street  at  great  distances  one  from  the 
other.  .  .  .  God  grant  mine  eyes  may  never  behold  the  like  who  now  saw 
above  10,000  houses  all  in  one  flame  !  The  noise  and  cracking  and  thunder 
of  impetuous  flames,  the  shrieking  of  women  and  children,  the  hurry  of  the 
people,  the  fall  of  towers,  houses,  and  chxirches  was  like  a  hideous  storm  .  .  . 
the  stones  of  Paul's  flew  like  grenades  the  melting  lead  running  down  the 
streets  in  a  stream  and  the  very  pavements  glowing  with  fiery  redness  so  as 
no  horse  nor  man  was  able  to  tread  on  them. 

Two  years  earlier,  but  entered  curiously  enough  on  the  wrong 
date,  he  gives  an  account  of  Oliver  Cromwell's  funeral : 

Saw  the  superb  funeral  of  the  Protector.  He  was  carried  from  Somerset 
House  in  a  velvet  bed  of  state  drawn  by  six  horses.  .  .  .  Oliver  lying  in 
effigy  in  royal  robes  and  crowned  with  a  crown,  sceptre  and  globe  like  a  King. 
...  In  this  equipage  they  proceeded  to  Westminster  ;  but  it  was  the  joyfullest 
funeral  I  ever  saw  ;  for  there  were  none  that  cried  but  dogs  which  the  soldiers 
hooted  away  with  a  barbarous  noise  drinking  and  taking  tobacco  in  the  streets 
as  they  went. 

Here  is  the  earliest  description  of  the  Grenadier  Guards : 

1678.  Now  were  brought  into  service  a  new  sort  of  soldiers  called  Grena- 
diers who  were  dexterous  in  flinging  hand  grenadoes,  everyone  having  a  pouch 
full ;  they  had  furred  caps  with  coped  crowns  like  Janizaries  which  made 
them  look  very  fierce  and  some  had  long  hoods  hanging  down  behind  as  we 
pictiire  fools.     Their  clothing  being  likewise  piebald,  yellow  and  red. 

We  get  some  view  of  the  domestic  side  of  Evelyn's  life  from 
his  references  to  his  home  and  his  wife  and  children.  During 
the  Great  Frost  of  1684,  he  describes  the  first  fair  on  the  Thames 
and  the  coaches  pljdng  from  Westminster  to  the  Temple  on  the 
ice,  but  he  hurries  home  to  see  the  effects  on  his  own  garden : 

I  went  to  Sayes  Court  to  see  how  the  frost  had  dealt  with  my  garden  when 
I  found  many  of  the  greens  and  rare  plants  utterly  destroyed.     The  oranges 


104  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

and  myrtles  very  sick,  the  rosemary  and  laurels  dead  to  all  appearance,  but 
the  cypress  likely  to  endure  it. 

After  a  hurricane,  too,  he  notes  how  his  own  trees  have  suffered, 
and  one  feels  that  his  garden  which  he  began  with  such  thought 
and  care  to  set  out  as  early  as  1653  was  the  real  background  of  his 
life. 

In  1698  Sayes  Court  Avas  occupied  for  a  time  by  Peter  the 
Great,  who  was  the  King's  guest,  Evelyn  goes  down  to  Deptford 
"  to  see  how  miserably  the  Czar  had  left  my  house  after  three 
months  making  it  his  Court."  One  of  the  amusements  of  "  his 
Zarish  Majesty  "  was  to  be  driven  furiously  in  a  wheel-barrow 
through  the  magnificent  holly  hedge,  which  was  400  feet  long, 
9  feet  high  and  5  feet  in  diameter. 

In  1647  Evelyn  married  a  daughter  of  Sir  Richard  Bro^Tie. 
She  was  his  companion  all  his  life  through  and  survived  liim 
three  years.  However,  we  hear  very  little  about  her,  as  he  did 
not  use  his  diary  as  a  record  of  intimate  relationships.  He 
notes  the  death  of  his  children,  and  in  two  instances 
breaks  out  into  pathetic  lamentations  over  his  loss.  His  son 
Richard,  who  died  in  1657  at  the  age  of  5,  seems  to  have 
been  a  most  remarkable  prodigy.  His  father  gives  a  long  account 
of  his  wonderful  talents  : 

At  two  years  and  a  half  old  he  could  perfectly  read  any  of  the  English, 
Latin,  French  or  gothic  letters  pronoiuicing  the  first  three  languages  exactly. 
He  had  before  the  fifth  year,  or  in  that  j'^ear  not  only  skill  to  read  most  written 
hands  but  to  decline  all  the  notuis,  conjugate  the  verbs  regular  and  most 
of  the  irregular  ;  learned  out  Puerilis,  got  by  heart  almost  the  entire  vocabu- 
lary of  Latin  and  French  primitives  and  verbs  .  .  .  began  to  write  legibly  and 
had  a  strong  passion  for  Greek.  The  number  of  verses  he  could  recite  was 
prodigious  ...  he  had  a  wonderful  disposition  to  mathematics  having  by 
heart  divers  propositions  of  Euclid  .  .  .  ^  had  learned  all  his  catechism  early 
and  imderstood  the  historical  part  of  the  Bible  and  New  Testament  to  a 
wonder.  .  .  .  He  had  learned  by  heart  divers  sentences  in  Latin  and  Greek 
which  on  occasion  he  would  produce  even  to  wonder.  He  was  all  life  all 
prettiness  far  from  morose,  sullen  or  childish  in  an3d;hing  he  said  or  did. 

After  a  touching  account  of  the  little  boy's  death,  he  exclaims  : 
Here  ends  the  joy  of  my  life,  and  for  which  I  go  ever  mourning  to  the  grave. 

Three  weeks  later  he  loses  his  youngest  son,  but  resigns  himself 
to  the  will  of  Gk)d.  In  1685  his  daughter  Mary  was  carried  off 
by  the  small-pox  at  the  age  of  19.  She,  too,  was  very  talented 
and  intellectually  proficient,  and  when  she  sang  "  it  was  as 
charming  to  the  eye  as  to  the  ear."  The  rapturous  account  of 
her  is  perhaps  the  longest  entry  in  the  diary,  and  her  death  was 


JOHN  EVELYN  I05 

the  bitterest  loss  he  suffered  in  his  hfe.     At  the  conclusion  he 

says  : 

_  This  is  the  little  history  and  imperfect  character  of  my  dear  child,  whose 
piety,  virtue,  and  incomparable  endowments  deserve  a  monument  more 
durable  than  brass  and  marble.  Precious  is  the  memorial  of  the  just.  Much 
I  could  enlarge  on  every  period  of  this  hasty  account  but  that  I  ease  and 
discharge  my  overcoming  passion  for  the  present,  so  many  things  worthy  an 
exceUent  Christian  and  dutiful  child  crowding  upon  me.  Never  can  I  say 
enough,  oh  dear,  my  dear  child,  whose  memory  is  so  precious  to  me. 

He  had  six  sons,  none  of  whom  survived  him,  only  one  of  them, 
John,  reaching  manhood.  Of  his  three  daughters  one  outlived 
her  father. 

Evelyn  comments  very  rarely  on  his  own  health.  When  his 
birthday  comes  round  he  gives  heartfelt  thanks  to  God  for  his 
protection.  He  is  of  an  orthodox  rehgious  nature,  and  while  his 
loyalty  to  the  Crown  makes  him  often  appear  too  much  to  act 
the  part  of  a  courtier,  he  not  only  refuses  honours  for  himself  but 
occasional  comments  show  that  he  was  well  aware  of  the  low  and 
corrupt  tone  of  Whitehall.     For  instance,  he  exclaims  : 

_  I  now  observed  how  the  women  began  to  paint  themselves,  formerly  a  most 
ignoimnious  thing  and  used  only  by  prostitutes. 

His  occasional  resolutions  to  survey  his  life,  make  "  an  accurate 
scrutiny  "  of  his  actions  and  give  himself  up  "  more  entirely  to 
God,"  his  affection  for  his  children,  his  deep  compassion  for  the 
wounded  sailor  who  undergoes  the  amputation  of  a  leg,  his  de- 
testation of  the  "  butcherly  dog  fighting  and  bull  baiting  "  from 
which  he  turns  away  "  weary  of  the  rude  and  dirty  pastime," 
taken    together  with  his   appreciation  of  nobility  of    character 
and  his  love  of  beauty— all  point  to  a  sensitively  refined  nature 
It  IS  with  somewhat  of  a  shock,  therefore,  that  we  find  him  on 
one  or  two  occasions  as  callous  and  indifferent  to  scenes  of  horror 
as  any  common  person  of  his  age.     A  more  hideous  and  brutal 
torture  than  that  which  he  describes  with  elaborate  detail  as 
having  been  undergone  by  a  prisoner  at  the  Chatelet  cannot  be 
conceived.     But  he  spares  us  nothing  of  the  gruesome  cruelty 
of  the  scene,  merely  remarking  at  the  end  that  the  spectacle  was 
so  uncomfortable  "  that  he  did  not  want  to  see  it  repeated  with 
a  second  malefactor.     His  political  bias  carries  him  the  length 
of  being  able  to  pass  "  the  quarters  "  of  some  of  the  regicides 
who  had  been  executed,  "  mangled  and  cut,  and  reeking  as  they 
were  brought  from  the  gallows  in  baskets  on  the  hurdle  "  with 
only  the  exclamation,  "  Oh,  the  miraculous  providence  of  God  !  " 


106  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Of  course  there  were  many  hideous  sights  for  the  passer-by  in 
London  of  those  days  and  to  see  "  a  miserable  creature  burning  " 
in  Smithfield  was  nothing  strange.  Nevertheless,  John  Evelyn 
appears  so  far  in  advance  of  his  day  in  so  many  ways  that  the 
occasional  reminder  of  what  he,  like  everyone  else,  considered 
quite  commonplace  occurrences  comes  as  a  surprise. 

The  diary  remained  in  two  manuscript  volumes  until  1818, 
when  with  the  permission  of  the  Evelyn  family  a  selection  was 
printed,  and  fuller  editions  were  issued  in  subsequent  years. 


i 
^ 


^ 


HENRY  TEONGE 

TEONGE  came  from  Spernall,  in  Warwickshire,  and  was 
at  one  time  rector  of  Alcester,  near  by.  Circumstances 
seem  to  have  arisen  which  made  him  desire  to  absent 
himself  from  his  parish.  Accordingly  at  the  age  of  54  he  became 
chaplain  on  "His  Majesty's  Frigott  Assistance,''  and  his  first 
voyage  occupied  from  May,  1675,  to  November,  1676.  After 
staying  some  months  in  London  he  returned  to  Spernall,  where 
his  son  had  been  undertaking  the  rector's  duties.  But  the 
original  cause  of  his  absence  appears  to  have  remained  in  full 
force.  He  says  :  "  Though  I  was  glad  to  see  my  relations  and 
olde  acquaintance  yet  I  Hved  very  uneasy  being  dayly  dunnd  by 
som  or  other  or  else  for  feare  of  land  pyrates  which  I  hated  worse 
than  Turkes."  Consequently  he  set  out  on  a  second  voyage 
on  board  the  Bristol  and  afterwards  the  Royal  Oak,  which  lasted 
from  March  31,  1678,  to  June  28,  1679.  During  these  two  voyages 
he  kept  a  diary,  in  which  he  records  the  fortunes  of  the  ship  and 
in  very  picturesque  language  describes  the  new  and  curious 
sights  he  saw.  He  enjoys  himself  thoroughly,  "no  hfe  at  the 
shoare  being  comparable  to  this  at  sea."  He  is  always  "  merry  " 
and  "  without  the  least  care,  sorrow  or  trouble." 

On  his  first  voyage  he  joined  Sir  John  Narborough's  expe- 
dition against  the  corsairs  of  the  Barbary  States,  and  whether 
in  storm  or  in  calm,  in  active  service  or  merely  sightseeing,  his 
cheerful  disposition  never  leaves  him  and  there  is  "  nothing  but 
merryment."  Every  Sunday  he  is  by  way  of  preaching  or  con- 
ducting a  service,  though  at  times  he  writes :  "  no  prayers  to-day 
by  reason  of  business."  He  sometimes  gives  the  text  of  his 
sermon,  but  theological  and  indeed  moral  questions  do  not  seem 
to  trouble  him  at  all.  He  bursts  into  verse  on  many  occasions, 
but  his  poems  are  not  of  a  high  order  and  his  ballads  about 
Chloris,  Amynta,  Phyllis  and  Amaryllis  are  not  worth  quoting. 
He  writes  a  poem  to  his  wife  beginning : 

107 


108  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

O  !    Ginnee  was  a  bonny  lasse 
Which  makes  the  world  to  woonder 
How  ever  it  shotdd  com  to  passe 
That  wee  did  part  a  smider. 

He  gives  an  acrostic  as  a  new  year's  gift  to  the  captain,  and  he 
is  always  ready  with  a  Latin  epitaph  if  one  of  the  crew  dies. 

"  Boules  of  punch  "  occur  very  frequently  :  and  the  feasting  was 
often  on  a  tremendous  scale  : 

Nov.  9.  Wee  had  a  princehke  dinner  ;  and  every  health  that  wee  dranke, 
every  man  broake  the  glass  he  drank  in  ;  so  that  before  night  wee  had  destroyd 
a  whole  chest  of  pure  Venice  glasse. 

The  consul  at  Assera  gave  them  "  a  treate,"  "'  such  a  on  as  I 
never  saw  before."  He  gives  a  careful  plan  of  the  thirty-six 
dishes  which  were  placed  on  the  table  :  "  Turkeys,  geese,  venison 
pasty,  a  pyramid  of  marchpane,  a  dish  of  harticocks,  sausages, 
biscotts,  etc.,  etc."  But  later  a  Mr.  Brown  gives  a  feast  which 
"  did  far  exceede  the  Consull's  feast."  "  There  were  above  a 
hundred  princely  disshes,  besyds  cheese  and  other  small  dishes 
of  rare  kinds  of  sweete  meats." 

Even  "  a  brave  gale  "  does  not  destroy  his  appetite  : 

More  myrth  at  dinner  this  day  than  ever  since  we  cam  on  board.  The 
wind  blew  very  hard  and  we  had  to  dinner  a  rimap  of  Xante  beife  a  little 
salted  and  weU  rested.  When  it  was  brought  in  to  the  cabin  and  set  on  the 
table  (that  is,  on  the  fioore  for  it  could  not  stand  on  the  table  for  the  ship's 
tossing) .  .  .  wee  all  sat  closse  roimd  about  the  beife,  some  seciu-ing  themselves 
from  sliirring  by  setting  their  feete  against  the  table  which  was  fast  tyd 
downe.  The  Lieutenant  set  his  feete  against  the  bedd  and  the  Captain  set 
his  back  against  a  chayre.  Severall  tumbles  we  had,  wee  and  our  plates,  and 
our  knives  slurrd  oft  together.  Otir  liquer  was  white  rubola,  admirable 
good.  Wee  had  also  a  couple  of  f att  pullets- ;  and  whilst  wee  were  eating  of 
them  a  sea  cam  and  forced  into  the  cabin  through  the  chinks  of  a  port  hole, 
which  by  looking  behind  me  I  just  discovered  when  the  water  was  coming 
under  mee.  I  soone  got  up,  and  no  whitt  wett ;  but  all  the  rest  were  well 
washed  and  got  up  as  fast  as  they  could  and  laughed  on  at  the  other. 

Of  the  various  places  in  the  Mediterranean  at  which  they 
stopped  he  gives  picturesque  descriptions,  entering  into  historical 
details.  He  finds  the  Maltese  "  extremely  courteouse "  and 
when  the  knights  came  on  board  "  I  had  much  discourse,  I  being 
the  only  entertainer  because  I  could  speak  Latine ;  for  which 
I  was  highly  esteemed  and  much  invited  on  shoare  again." 

A  description  of  an  Arabian  lady  at  Antioch  is  a  good  instance 
of  the  chaplain's  graphic  style  : 


HENRY  TEONGE  109 

This  Arabian  Lady  was  tall  and  very  slender  very  sworfy  of  complexion 
and  very  thinn  faced  ;  having  nothing  on  but  a  thinn  loose  garment  a  kinde 
of  gyrdle  about  her  middle  and  the  garment  open  before.  She  had  a  ringe 
in  her  left  nostrill  which  hvmg  downe  below  her  nether  lipp  ;  at  each  eare  a 
round  globe  as  bigg  as  a  tennis  ball,  shining  Uke  gold,  and  hanging  almost  as 
low  as  her  brest.  .  .  .  She  had  also  gold  chaines  about  her  wrists  and  the 
smalls  of  her  naked  legs.  Her  nayles  of  her  fingers  were  coloured  almost 
redd  and  her  lips  coloured  as  blew  as  indigo  ;  and  so  also  was  her  belly  from 
the  navill  to  her  hammes,  painted  blew  like  branches  of  trees  or  strawberry 
leaves.  Nor  was  she  cautious  but  rather  ambitious  to  shew  you  this  sight ; 
as  the  only  raryty  of  their  sex  or  country.  The  rest  of  the  women  were  all 
alike  for  their  painting  in  all  places  but  farr  fowler. 

Christmas  Day  is  a  great  opportunity  for  merriment : 

Chi-istmas  day  wee  keepe  thus.  At  4  in  the  morning  our  trumpeters  all 
doe  flatt  their  trumpetts  and  begin  at  our  Captain's  cabin  and  thence  to  all 
the  officers  and  gentlemens'  cabins  ;  playing  a  levite  at  each  cabin  doore  and 
bidding  good  morrow  wishing  a  merry  Christmas.  After  they  goe  to  their 
stations  on  the  poope  and  somid  3  levitts  in  honour  of  the  morning.  At  10 
wee  goe  to  prayers  and  sermon  ;  text  Zacc.  ix.  9.  Our  Captaine  had  all  his 
officers  and  gentlemen  to  dinner  with  him  where  we  had  excellent  fayre  ;  a 
ribb  of  beife,  plumb  pudding,  mince  pyes,  etc.  and  plenty  of  good  wines  of 
severall  sorts  ;  dranke  healths  to  the  King  to  our  wives  and  friends  and  ended 
the  day  with  much  civill  myrth. 

On  January  30  they  are  obhged  for  once  in  a  way  to  be  less 
merry. 

This  day  being  the  day  of  our  King's  marterdome  wee  shew  all  the  signes 
of  morning  as  possible  wee  can  viz  our  jacks  and  fiaggs  only  halfe  stafE  high 
.  .  .  ringing  the  bells  on  the  trumpet  very  dolefully  .  .  .  and  so  we  ended  the 
day  mornfully  ;  which  made  the  Maltese  much  woonder  till  they  understood 
the  reason  of  it. 

The  expedition  was  successful.  Sir  John  Narborough  negotiated 
with  the  Dey  of  Tripoli  and  concluded  a  treaty  with  him.  All  the 
stages  in  the  negotiations  are  carefully  noted  by  the  diarist.  The 
ship  suffered  a  good  deal  especially  from  gales  on  the  voyage  home. 
He  concludes  on  November  17  with  the  words  : 

Wee  are  payed  off  at  Dedford ;  where  wee  leave  the  rottenest  frigot  that 
ever  cam  to  England. 

Before  embarking  on  his  second  voyage  he  stays  in  London  a 
few  days  and  has  a  sight  of  the  King. 

This  morning  our  noble  Captaine  made  my  son  Thomas  a  waterman  and 
tooke  him  and  myself  with  him  to  WhitehaU  where  our  Captain  cam  to  mee 
and  told  mee  I  should  kisse  His  Majesty's  hand.  He  had  no  sooner  sayd  so 
but  the  King  cam  out ;  my  Capt.  presented  me  to  the  King  sajring  An't  please 
your  Majesty  this  gentleman  is  an  old  cavalier  and  my  chaplen.     I  kneeled 


110  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

downe  he  gave  me  his  hand.  I  kist  it  and  said  Pray  God  blesse  your  Majesty  ! 
He  answered  God  blesse  you  boath  together  !  twice  and  walked  alonge  the 
Gallery  his  wonted  large  pace. 

They  sailed  along  the  coast  of  Portugal  and  Spain.  Near  Majorca 
there  was  a  sudden  alarm  owing  to  an  unknown  but  "  lusty  ship 
coming  up  with  us."  He  himself  goes  up  to  the  poop  with  his 
staff  gun.  But  after  shots  had  been  fired  the  ship  turns  out  to  be 
a  French  vessel  and  a  friend.  But  he  relates  an  amusing  incident 
during  the  encounter  : 

The  best  passage  was  that  wee  had  a  Fryar  with  us,  whoe,  having  been 
drinking  wine  was  grone  a  little  valiant,  and  he  had  got  a  mvisket  in  his  hand, 
and  a  coller  of  bandeliares  about  him  ;  and  to  see  him  stand  in  his  white 
coate,  ball'd  pate,  his  muskett  in  his  hand,  and  the  12  Apostles  rattling  about 
him,  was  a  sight  which  caused  much  laughter. 

The  Friar  remains  with  them  and  on  Sunday  attends  divine 
service.  He  sits  by  the  Chaplain  "  all  the  while  very  devoutly." 
The  mortality  in  the  crew  was  fearful,  as  many  as  sixty-six  dying 
before  they  returned.  Every  few  days  he  seems  to  be  occupied 
with  burying  one  of  the  crew,  till  at  last  the  captain  falls  ill  and 
dies.  Teonge  immediately  goes  to  his  cabin  and  composes  a  Latin 
"  distich,"  an  immense  epitaph  and  a  poem  in  English.  He  con- 
fesses for  once  we  have  had  "  a  voyage  of  trouble."  But  he  soon 
recovers  and,  after  the  appointment  of  the  new  captain,  he  writes  : 

Wee  are  more  merry  than  I  thought  wee  should  have  beene  ;  our  new 
Captaine  is  wondrous  free,  not  only  of  his  excellent  wine  but  also  of  his  owne 
good  and  free  company  among  us.  Wee  had  a  pigg  to  dinner  this  day  worth 
8s.  in  England. 

On  one  occasion  he  has  a  rival  in  Lord  Mordant,  an  eccentric 
character  who  afterwards  saw  a  good  deal  of  naval  service.  He 
was  son  of  Lord  Avanloe  and  at  this  time  was  only  about  twenty 
years  old.     Teonge's  treatment  of  him  is  most  entertaining  : 

Lord  Mordant  taking  occasion  by  my  not  being  very  well  would  have 
preacht  and  askt  the  Captain's  leave  last  night  and  to  that  intent  sate  uptiU 
4  in  the  morning  to  compose  his  speech  and  intended  to  have  Mr.  Norwood  to 
sing  the  Psalme.  All  this  I  myselfe  heard  in  agitation ;  and  resolving  to 
prevent  him  I  got  up  in  the  morning  before  I  should  have  done  had  I  had 
respect  to  my  owne  health  and  cam  into  the  greate  cabin  where  I  found  the 
zealous  Lord  with  out  Captaine  whom  I  did  so  handle  in  a  smart  and  short 
discourse  that  he  went  out  of  the  cabin  in  greate  wrath.  In  the  afternoon  he 
set  on  of  the  carpentar's  crewe  to  worke  about  his  cabin  ;  and  I  being  ac- 
quainted with  it,  did  by  my  Captaine's  order  discharge  the  woorke  man  and 
he  left  working  ;  at  which  the  Reverent  Lord  was  so  vexed  that  he  borrowed 
a  hammar  and  busyed  himselfe  all  that  day  in  nayUng  up  hangings  :  but 
being  done  on  the  Sabaoth  day  and  also  when  there  was  no  necessity  I  hope 


HENRY  TEONGE  111 

the  woorke  will  not  be  long  lived.     From  that  day  he  loved  neyther  mee  nor 
the  Captaine  ;   No  prayers,  for  discontent. 

One  cannot  help  being  rather  sorry  for  the  noble  Lord  who 
spent  all  night  preparing  his  sermon. 

This  time  on  Christmas  Day  they  had  not  "  so  greate  a  dinner 
as  was  intended."     But  they  do  not  seem  to  have  done  so  badly : 

Wee  had  to  dinner  an  e  xcellent  rice  pudding  in  a  great  charger,  a  speccial 
peice  of  Martinmas  English  beife,  a  neat's  tongue,  good  cabbage,  a  charger 
full  of  excellent  fresh  fish  fryde,  a  douzen  of  wood  cocks  in  a  pye,  a  couple  of 
good  henns  roasted,  3  sorts  of  cheese  ;  and  last  of  all  a  greate  charger  full  of 
blew  figgs,  almonds  and  raysings  ;  and  wine  and  punch  gallore  and  a  dozen 
of  English  pippens. 

Our  genial  diarist  returns  to  Spernall  after  being  paid  off,  and 
the  bald  mention  of  his  death  in  the  register  on  March  21,  1690, 
is  all  that  is  to  be  found  of  his  subsequent  history.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  he  succeeded  this  time  in  saving  enough  to  keep  him 
out  of  debt  and  trouble,  as  after  his  first  voyage,  although  he 
"  gott  a  good  summ  of  monys,"  he  "  spent  greate  part  of  it." 

The  diary,  though  filled  with  detail  of  his  ship's  progress,  never- 
theless presents  in  its  natural  and  vivid  style  a  delightful  portrait 
of  the  good-natured  and  observant  author,  without  a  trace  of  self- 
consciousness,  and  gives  a  very  good  picture  of  naval  life  in  the 
time  of  Charles  II. 

The  manuscript  was  in  the  possession  of  a  Warwickshire  family 
for  more  than  a  century.  It  was  offered  accidentally  to  a  pub- 
lisher for  sale  and  was  eventually  printed  in  1825.  As  may  be 
imagined,  a  certain  amount  of  expurgation  was  necessary  before 
publication.  , 


SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY  I 

MINOR  DIARIES 
JOHN  MANNINGHAM 

ALTHOUGH  it  contains  a  few  memoranda  and  personal 
/\  matters  of  a  true  diary  kind,  Manningham's  diary  is  more 
JL  ]^  of  a  note-book  in  which  he  noted  down  a  collection  of 
anecdotes,  poems,  epitaphs,  gossip  and  jokes.  It  also  includes 
very  long  accounts  of  sermons.  As  will  be  seen,  references  to 
sermons  is  a  common  feature  in  many  diaries,  but  no  other  diarist 
gives  them  at  such  length.  He  must  have  been  able  to  write  some 
sort  of  shorthand,  which  was  probably  part  of  his  legal  training. 
Manningham  was  a  barrister  of  the  Middle  Temple.  He  Uved  at 
Bradbourn,  in  Kent ;  the  date  of  his  birth  is  not  known,  but  he 
was  entered  of  the  Middle  Temple  in  1597.  His  will  was  proved 
in  1622.  His  diary  covers  the  period  from  March,  1601-02,  to 
April,  1603. 

In  the  anecdotes  and  gossip  he  gives  his  authority,  "  cosen  told 
me,"  "  my  cosen's  wife  said,"  "  Mr.  Hall  nar  : ,"  or  simply  the 
name  of  the  author  of  the  saying.  He  always  records  his  move- 
ments and  journeys,  but  he  gives  no  domestic  details  or  account 
of  his  daily  occupations,  though  some  of  his  memoranda  are  of  a 
homely  character,  as,  for  instance : 

My  cosen  shee  told  him  that  Joane  Bachellor  upon  Thursday  last  had 
sent  hir  some  fishe  which  she  sent  back  again.  Whereupon  he  said  she  was 
of  an  ill  natiire  that  could  not  forgive.  And  this  shee  tooke  in  such  snufie 
that  she  could  not  aSord  him  a  good  look  all  that  day  but  blubberd. 

Little  epigrams  of  his  own  are  scattered  throughout  the  book : 

Every  man  semes  to  serve  himselfe. 

Suspicion  is  noe  proof e  nor  jealousy  an  equall  judge. 

A  nobleman  on  horsebacks  with  a  rable  of  footmen  about  him  is  but  like 
a  huntsman  with  a  kenneU  of  hounds  after  him. 

112 


JOHN  MANNINGHAM  113 

One  fee  i3  too  good  for  a  bad  lawyer  and  two  fees  too  little  for  a  good  one. 

There  are  references  to  the  manners  and  fashions  of  the  day. 
We  learn  that  "  a  certain  kind  of  compound  called  Laudanum  " 
had  been  recently  introduced ;  that  "  the  play  of  shuttlecocke 
is  become  soemuch  in  request  at  Court  that  the  making  of  shuttte- 
cockes  is  almost  growne  a  trade  in  London,"  that  scholars  returning 
from  Italy  adopted  the  "new  fashioned  salutacions  belowe  the 
knee  "  ;  and  there  is  a  good  description  of  a  popular  preacher, 
"  a  black  fellow  with  a  sour  look  but  a  good  spirit,  bold  and  some- 
times bluntly  witty."  The  incidents  noted  are  for  the  most  part 
trivial,  such  as  : 

This  afternoon  a  serving  man,  one  of  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  fought 
with  swaggering  Eps  and  ran  him  through  the  ear. 

I  heard  my  cosen  Wingat  is  married  to  a  riche  widdowe  in  Kent. 

We  must  give  the  now  famous  but  not  at  all  creditable  reference 
to  Shakespeare  among  Manningham's  anecdotes  : 

Upon  a  tyme  when  Burbidge  played  Richard  III  there  was  a  citizen  grone 
soe  farr  in  liking  with  him  that  before  shee  went  from  the  play  shee  appointed 
him  to  come  that  night  unto  hir  by  the  name  of  Richard  the  Third.  Shake- 
speare overhearing  their  conclusion  went  before  was  intertained  and  at  his 
game  ere  Burbidge  came.  Then  message  being  brought  that  Burbidge  was 
at  the  dore,  Shakespeare  caused  returne  to  be  made  that  William  the  Con- 
queror was  before  Richard  the  Third.  Shakespeare's  name  William.  fMr 
Touse  ?) 

This  certainly  is  a  curious  way  of  referring  to  the  actor  who, 
we  are  told,  was  known  at  that  time  as  the  author  of  several  plays, 
including  Twelfth  Night,  the  performance  of  which  Manningham 
himself  attended,  according  to  a  note  in  his  diary  a  few  weeks 
before. 

We  are  greatly  indebted  to  Manningham  for  one  of  the  fullest 
accounts  that  exist  of  the  last  hours  of  Queen  Ehzabeth. 

Dr.  Parry,  the  Queen's  chaplain,  was  a  friend  of  Manningham's. 
At  this  time  he  was  Prebendary  of  York,  later  he  became  Bishop 
of  Gloucester  and  Worcester.  He  is  frequently  mentioned  in  the 
diary.     In  April,  1602,  our  diarist  writes  : 

Her  Majestic  merrily  told  Dr.  Parry  that  shee  would  not  heare  him  on  Good 
Friday : 

"  Thou  wilt  speake  against  me,  I  am  sure  "  quoth  shee  ;  Yet  shee  heard 
him. 

On  IMarch  23,  1602-03,  having  heard  Dr.  Parry  preach  at 
Richmond,  he  dines  with  him. 


114  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  dyned  with  Dr.  Parry  in  the  Privy  Chamber  and  understood  by  him,  the 
Bishop  of  Chichester,  the  Deane  of  Windsor  etc  that  hir  Majeetie  hath  bin 
by  fitts  troubled  with  melancholy  some  three  or  four  raonthes  but  for  thia 
fortnight  extreme  oppressed  with  it,  in  soe  much  that  shee  refused  to  eate 
anie  thing  to  receive  any  phisike  or  admit  any  rest  in  bedd  till  within  these 
two  or  three  dayes.  Shee  hath  bin  in  a  manner  speechless  for  two  dayes, 
verry  pensive  and  silent,  since  Shrovetide  sitting  sometymes  with  hir  eye 
fixed  upon  one  object  many  howres  togither,  yet  shee  alwayes  had  hir  perfect 
senses  and  memory  and  yesterday  signified  by  the  lifting  up  of  hir  hand  and 
eyes  to  heaven  a  sjme  which  Dr.  Parry  entreated  of  hir,  that  shee  beleeved 
that  fayth  which  shee  had  caused  to  be  professed  and  looked  faythfully  to  be 
saved  by  Christe's  merits  and  mercy  only  and  noe  other  means.  She  took 
great  delight  in  hearing  prayers,  wovild  often  at  the  name  of  Jesus  lift  up  her 
hands  and  eyes  to  heaven.  Shee  would  not  heare  the  Archbishop  speake  of 
hope  of  hir  longer  lyfe,  but  when  he  prayed  or  spake  of  Heaven  and  these 
joyes,  shee  would  hug  his  hand.  It  seems  she  might  have  Uved  yf  she 
would  have  used  meanes  ;  but  shee  woiild  not  be  persuaded  and  princes 
must  not  be  forced.  Hir  physicians  said  shee  had  a  body  of  a  firme  and 
perfect  constitucion  likely  to  have  lived  many  yeares.  A  royaU  Majestie  is 
noe  priviledge  against  death. 

And  on  the  following  day : 

This  morning  about  three  o'clock  hir  Majestie  departed  this  lyfe,  mildly 
like  a  lamb,  easily  like  a  ripe  apple  from  the  tree,  cum  leve  quadamfebre  absque 
gemitu.  Dr.  Parry  told  me  that  he  was  present  and  sent  his  prayers  before 
hir  soule ;  and  I  doubt  not  but  shee  is  amongst  the  royal]  saints  in  Heaven 
in  etemall  joyes. 

He  gives  an  account  of  the  accession  of  James  I  with  this 
comment : 

I  thinke  the  sorrowe  for  hir  Majestie's  departure  was  soe  deep  in  many 
hearts  they  covdd  not  soe  suddenly  showe  anie  great  joy,  though  it  could  not 
be  lesse  then  exceeding  greate  for  the  succession  of  soe  worthy  a  King. 

The  diary  is  contained  in  a  smaU  volume  of  133  leaves,  measuring 
not  quite  6  inches  by  4.  The  original  manuscript  is  in  the  British 
Museum.     It  was  reproduced  by  the  Camden  Society  in  1868. 


ELIAS  ASHMOLE 

THE  old  building  in  Broad  Street,  Oxford,  known  as  the 
Ashmolean  Museum,  which  used  to  contain  the  collection 
of  curiosities  left  to  the  University  by  Ehas  Ashmole,  the 
herald  and  antiquary,  has  helped  to  immortahse  his  name.  Born 
in  1617,  he  started  Ufe  as  a  soUcitor,  and  subsequently  held  a 
variety  of  offices,  such  as  Commissioner  of  Excise,  Comptroller  of 


ELIAS  ASHMOLE  115 

the  Ordnance,  and  Windsor  Herald.     His  interest  in  astrology 

gave  place  in  his  later  life  to  a  study  of  heraldry  and  antiquarian 
research.  He  was  offered  the  post  of  Garter  King-at-Arms,  but 
he  refused  it  in  favour  of  Sir  William  Dugdale. 

His  diary  begins  by  a  recital  of  the  chief  events  in  his  life  from 
his  birth,  but  it  must  have  been  in  or  about  1641  that  he  began 
making  the  actual  entries,  which  are  not  by  any  means  regular 
and  are  very  brief.  They  are  chiefly  of  a  private  and  personal 
character.  He  supplies  some  domestic  details  and  he  makes  very 
frequent  notes  on  the  state  of  his  health.  His  first  wife  dies  in 
1641,  when  he  makes  the  following  remarks  : 

She  was  a  virtuous,  modest,  careful,  and  loving  wife  ;  her  affection  was 
exceeding  great  towards  me  as  was  mine  to  her  which  caused  us  to  live  so 
happily  together.  Nor  was  I  less  beloved  and  esteemed  by  both  her  Father 
and  Mother  inasmuch  as  at  her  Funeral  her  mother  sitting  near  the  corps 
with  Tears  professed  to  the  Baron  of  Kinderton's  lady  who  after  told  it  to  me 
and  others  present  that  she  knew  not  whether  she  loved  me  or  her  onlv  son 
better.  •' 

In  1649  he  marries  Lady  Mainwaring,  who  was  some  twenty 
years  his  senior  and  had  been  married  three  times  previously 
Her  son  apparently  disapproved  of  the  match,  as  a  year  or  so 
before  the  marriage  he  broke  into  Ashmole's  chamber  and  attacked 
him  because  he  thought  "  I  would  marry  his  mother  "  The 
marriage  was  not  a  success,  for,  in  1655,  Lady  Mainwaring 
petitioned  for  a  separation  and  Ashmole  notes  in  his  diary: 

The  cause  between  me  and  my  wife  was  heard  where  Mr.  Serjeant  Maynard 
observed  to  the  court  that  there  were  800  sheets  of  depositions  on  my  wife's 
part  and  not  one  word  proved  against  me  of  using  her  ill  nor  ever  giving  her 
a  bad  or  provoking  word.  ^ 

^    In  January,  1668,  he  mentions  Lady  Mainwaring's  death,  and 
in  November  of  the  same  year  he  marries  Ehzabeth  Dugdale  the 
daughter  of  Sir  William  Dugdale,  whom  he  had  accompanied  on 
his  visitation  through  England. 
In  1647  he  rejoices  because 

it  pleased  God  to  put  me  in  mind  that  I  was  now  placed  in  the  condition  I 
,  always  desired  which  was  that  I  might  be  enabled  to  live  to  myself   and 
studies  without  being  forced  to  take  pains  for  a  livelihood  in  the  world. 

Not  only  does  he  regularly  attend  "  the  Astrologers  feast,"  but 
he  seems  to  have  been  close  friends  with  an  alchemist  whom  he 
raters  to  as  "  my  father  Backhouse." 

thet^r^l!^''  ^^'''''  Backhouse  opened  Inmself  very  freely  touching 


116  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

And  later  : 

My  father  Backhouse  lying  sick  .  .  .  not  knowing  whether  he  should  live 
or  dye  about  eleven  of  the  clock  told  me  in  Syllables  the  true  matter  of  the 
Philosopher's  stone  which  he  bequeathed  to  me  as  a  legacy. 

We  have  notes  on  his  occupations,  how  he  learns  seal  engraving, 
casting  in  sand,  goldsmith's  work  and  Hebrew,  how  he  is  com- 
manded by  the  King  to  make  a  description  of  medals,  how  Joan 
Morgan  liis  maid  died  of  the  small  pox,  when  he  discharged  his 
man  Hobs,  etc.,  etc.  But  by  far  the  most  frequent  references  in 
the  diary  are  to  his  own  ailments,  his  constant  toothache,  and  his 
attacks  of  gout,  and  also  to  some  of  the  very  strange  remedies 
to  which  he  had  recourse.     A  few  illustrations  may  be  given : 

A  boyle  broke  out  of  my  throat  under  my  right  ear. 

About  this  time  the  left  side  of  my  neck  began  to  break  forth  occasioned  by 
shaving  my  beard  with  a  bad  razor. 

This  night  about  one  of  the  clock  I  fell  ill  of  a  surfeit  occasioned  by  drinking 
water  after  venison.  I  was  greatly  oppressed  in  my  stomach  and  next  day 
Mr.  Saunders  the  Astrologian  sent  me  a  piece  of  Briony  root  to  hold  in  my 
hand  and  within  a  quarter  of  an  hour  my  stomach  was  freed  of  that  great 
oppression. 

M  ^        I  took  early  in  the  morning  a  good  dose  of  Elixir  and  hung  three  spiders 
about  my  neck  and  they  drove  my  ague  away.     Deo  gratias. 

I  rubbed  the  skin  near  my  rump  whereupon  it  began  to  be  very  sore. 

This  unfortunate  occurrence  produces  nearly  a  dozen  almost 
daily  entries  with  regard  to  his  symptoms.  When  he  hurts  his 
right  foot  he  applies  "  a  black  snail  "  to  it  (presumably  a  leech, 
although  he  mentions  them  separately). 

The  last  entry  is  dated  October  9,  1687.     He  died  in  1692. 

The  diary,  which  certainly  throws  some  light  on  Ashmole's 
personality,  was  published,  together  with  some  of  his  letters,  in 
a  Uttle  volume  in  1717. 


JOHN  ROUS 

WHILE  he  lived  out  of  the  world  in  the  small  village  of 
Santon  Downham,  in  Suffolk,  John  Rous,  a  country 
parson,  took  a  very  close  interest  in  public  affairs,  and 
his  diary,  which  extends  intermittently  from  1625  to  1642,  is  filled 
almost  exclusively  with  proclamations,  petitions,  trials  and  mili- 


( 


i 


JOHN   ROUS  117 

tary  and  foreign  events.  He  seems  to  be  aware  that  there  are 
other  sources  from  which  information  on  pubhc  events  can  be 
obtained  when  he  writes  : 

The  many  occiirrences  about  Parliament  business  the  differences  between 
the  King's  Majestie  and  them  ;  their  Petitions,  his  answers  (supposed  or 
otherwise)  the  affairs  of  Ireland  etc  are  extant  in  multitudes  of  books  and 
papers  (imto  which  God  in  mercy  put  an  end). 

There  is  an  occasion  when  he  records  a  discussion  with  his 
neighbours  at  Brandon  with  regard  to  the  Rochelle  Expedition 
in  1627.     One  of  them 

fell  in  general  to  speak  distrustfully  of  the  voyage  and  then  of  our  war  with 
France  which  he  would  make  our  King  the  cause  of. 

^  Rous  indignantly  takes  the  liigh  patriotic  hne  against  these 
"  pro-French  "  anti-patriots,  considering  it 

foul  for  any  man  to  lay  blame  upon  our  own  King  and  State.  I  told  them  I 
would  always  speak  the  best  of  what  our  King  and  State  did  and  think  the 
best  too  till  I  had  good  gromids. 

Rous,  who  was  an  upholder  of  the  doctrine  of  "my  country 
right  or  wrong,"  then  proceeds  to  enlarge  on  the  mischief  and  dis- 
content caused  by  those  who  spoke  disparagingly  of  State  business. 
Rous  hved  for  many  years  with  his  father,  who  held  the  par- 
sonage of  Weering.  He  married  twice  and  had  several  children, 
but  in  his  diary  he  never  says  a  word  about  his  family  or  himself! 
He  comments  on  the  crops,  prices  and  the  weather,  and  notes 
crimes  and  executions  within  the  district. 

Some  of  the  public  events  he  describes  at  great  length,  such  as 

the  murder  of  Buckingham.     Once  or  twice  he  suddenly  inserts 

quite  irrelevantly  some  trivial  incident.     Between  an  entry  giving 

the  protest  of  the  House  of  Commons  on  a  very  eventful  occasion 

in  May,  1629,  and  another  with  regard  to  the  proclamation  of 

;  peace  with  France,  we  find  an  account  of  a  crow  building  its  nest 

in  the  sail  of  a  windmill.     In  the  same  year  he  describes  a  man 

who  ate  two  toads  on  being  offered  a  groat  to  do  it.     "  When 

both  were  down  his  stomach  held  them  and  he  had  his  groate." 

A  particular  feature  of  this  diary  is  the  skits  and  satirical  verses 

I  which  he  collects  and  other  miscellaneous  documents,   some  of 

I  which  have  not  been  discovered  in  any  other  source.     He  does 

!  not  always  approve  of  the  rhymes  as  he  heads  one  series  : 

I  hate  these  following  railing  rimes 

Yet  keepe  them  for  president  of  the  times. 


118  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Many  of  them  are  interesting  and  amusing,  but  as  they  have  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  diary  writing  we  must  pass  them  by. 
The  diary  was  pubHshed  by  the  Camden  Society  in  1856. 


SIR  WILLIAM  BRERETON 

SIR  WILLIAM  BRERETON,  of  Handforth,  Cheshire,  born 
about  1604,  kept  a  diary  of  his  travels  in  1634  when  he  went 
to  Holland,  and  again  in  the  following  year  when  he  passed 
through  the  north  of  England  and  Scotland.  There  is  no  personal 
note  in  the  diary,  it  is  purely  descriptive.  But  it  is  worthy  of 
notice,  as  the  \\Titer  is  very  observant  and  his  style  is  picturesque. 
He  enters  into  minute  detail  with  regard  to  all  he  sees  and  hears, 
the  daily  entries  sometimes  occupying  several  pages.  Architec- 
ture, agriculture  and  the  weather  attract  him  chiefly,  and  he 
sometimes  makes  a  passing  comment  on  the  inns  he  stops  at : 

We  lodged  att  the  Crowne ;  were  well  used  ;  8d  ordinarie ;  and  5d  oxir 
servants  and  great  entertainment  and  good  lodging.  A  respective  hoast  and 
honest  reckoning. 

Medical  details  seem  to  be  an  indispensable  part  of  many 
early  diaries.  Sir  William  Brereton,  however,  does  not  enlarge 
on  his  o\vn  health,  but  he  notes  the  folloAving  recipe  : 

The  Bishop  assiired  mee  that  faire  spring  water  in  the  morning  receavea 
into  your  mouth  and  there  kept  untill  itt  bee  lukewarme  and  then  swallowed 
is  an  excellent  medicine  to  cure  the  cholick  and  stone  and  that  hee  himself 
had  been  hereby  cured. 

He  gives  a  detailed  account  of  "  a  most  daintie  new  saltwork  " 
lately  erected  at  Newcastle.  But  he  is  not  above  gossip  and  gives 
a  very  full  description  of  the  charge  brought  against  Ralph 
Lambton  of  murdering  his  two  wives. 

In  Scotland  he  is  occasionally  struck  by  the  beauty  of  the 
scenery.  But  in  describing  the  Scots  he  seems  to  lose  all  his 
usual  restraint  and  lets  himself  go  in  unmeasured  language. 

The  sluttishness  and  nastiness  of  this  people  is  such  that  I  cannott  ommitt 
the  particularizing  thereof  though  I  have  naore  than  sufficiently  often  touched 
upon  the  same.  Their  houses  and  halls  and  kitchens  have  such  a  noysome 
tast  and  savom*  and  that  soe  strong  as  itt  doth  oSend  you,  soe  soone  as  you 
come  within  their  walls,  yea  sometimes  when  I  have  light  from  my  horse,  I 
have  felt  the  distate  of  itt  before  I  have  come  into  the  house  :  yea,  I  never 
came  to  my  own  lodging  in  Edinborough,  or  went  out  butt  I  was  constrained 


JOHN  ASTON  119 

to  hold  my  nose  or  to  use  warme-wood  or  some  such  sented  plant  :  Their 
pewter  I  am  confident  is  never  scowred  :  they  are  afraid  it  should  too  much 
weare  and  consume  thereby  :  only  sometimes  and  that  but  seldome  they  doe 
sleightly  rubb  them  over  with  a  fillthy  dish  clowte  dipped  in  most  sluttish 
greasy  water.  .  .  .  To  come  into  their  kitchen  and  to  see  them  dress  their 
meate  and  to  behold  the  sinke  (which  is  more  offensive  than  any  jakes)  will  be 
a  sufficient  supper  and  will  take  off  the  edge  of  your  stomack. 

The  writer  of  this  diary  of  travels  was  educated  at  Brasenose 
College,  Oxford ;  he  was  created  a  baronet  in  1622  and  was  a 
Knight  of  the  Shire  for  Chester.  He  took  a  prominent  part  on  the 
side  of  the  Parliament  in  the  Civil  War. 

The  journal  is  written  in  a  clear,  regular  and  very  close  hand- 
writing. The  MS.  belonged  originally  to  Dr.  Percy,  Bishop  of 
Dromore.  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  much  interested  in  it  and  went 
so  far  as  to  offer  his  services  should  it  be  published.  It  eventually 
passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Grey-Egertons  of  Oalton.  It  was 
not  printed  until  1844,  when  Mr.  Edward  Hawkins,  Keeper  of  the 
Antiquities  in  the  British  Museum,  edited  it  for  the  Chetham 
Society. 

Sections  of  the  journal  have  appeared  in  the  Surtees  Society's 
Collections,  Inijjrints  and  Reprints  by  Richardson,  and  Early 
Travellers  in  Scotland  by  Hume  Browne. 


JOHN  ASTON 

CHARLES  I,  on  his  expedition  through  York,  Durham  and 
Northumberland  in  the  first  Bishop's  war  of  1639,  took 
with  him  John  Aston,  of  Aston,  in  Cheshire,  as  "  Privy 
Chamber  man  extraordinary."  Aston  kept  a  diary  from  April  1 
to  June  29  which  is  of  historical  interest  as  giving  the  first-hand 
observations  of  an  eye-witness  on  the  progress  of  the  King's  army. 
Apart  from  this  it  has  no  personal  or  intimate  features.  When 
he  sets  out,  he  says  : 

I  had  a  cuirassier's  armes  for  my  selfe,  close  caske,  gorget,  back  and  breast 
culet,  pouldrons,  vambrance,  left  hand  gauntlet,  and  cuisses  and  a  case  of 
pistoUs  and  great  saddle. 

He  describes  in  detail  towns,  cathedrals,  buildings  and  particu- 
lars with  regard  to  the  movements  of  the  army  and  the  quartering 
of  the  troops.  The  King's  lodgings  and  goings  and  comings  are 
mentioned  without  any  account  of  conversations  or  personal 
remarks. 


120  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

One  quotation  may  be  given  to  illustrate  Aston's  general  style 
in  recording  the  incidents  of  camp  life  : 

The  5th  of  June  being  Wednesday  the  order  being  not  settled  for  our 
watching,  wee  were  commanded  to  attend  and  then  divided  the  squadron 
and  cast  lots  which  part  should  watch  that  night.  It  fell  to  my  squadron 
where  I  was  to  bee  dismissed,  soe  I  was  ryding  home  about  6  o'clock  and 
there  was  presently  a  generall  alarme  through  the  campe.  The  Scots  were 
discreid  from  our  quarter  pitched  on  a  hiU  nearer  Dunce,  soe  all  the  soiildiers 
stood  to  their  armes  ;  biit  about  9  a  clock  the  King  and  the  army  were  better 
quieted  soe  there  was  noe  command  layed  upon  us  to  attend  only  my  selfe 
was  inforced  to  be  there  all  night  in  Mr.  Hinton's  tent  because  I  could  not  get 
out  of  the  army.  Some  thought  the  King  knew  of  their  intention  to  come 
thither  long  before,  but  would  suffer  it  to  come  as  a  soddaine  alaram  to  the 
campe  to  try  their  courage  and  affeccons  which  as  the  same  polliticians  sayed 
his  majestie  began  now  to  distrust,  but  theise  were  clergy.  I  know  not  how 
well  the  King  was  satisfied  but  hee  was  inquisitive  and  curious  as  might  bee 
and  come  to  the  bulwarke  with  his  perspective  and  there  stood  viewing  and 
coimting  the  tents  a  long  while  and  was  followed  with  his  nobles  and  courtiers 
as  all  amazed  and  wondring  at  the  approach  of  the  Scots,  the  King  having 
sent  them  word  they  should  not  come  within  10  miles  of  the  campe. 

Aston  was  not  really  a  diary  writer.  It  was  simply  the  import- 
ance of  the  occasion  which  made  him  think  it  worth  while  to 
keep  a  record  of  his  three  months  with  the  King's  army. 

The  manuscript  of  the  diary  is  in  the  British  Museum  and  has 
been  reproduced  in  the  Surtees  Society's  publications. 


WILLIAM  DOWSING 

/^  LTHOUGH  not  strictly  speaking  a  private  diary,  William 
/  \  Dowsing's  Journal,  both  in  matter  and  manner,  is  a  unique 
JL  jL.  document.  He  is  described  as  "  Parliamentary  Visitor 
appointed  under  a  warrant  from  the  Earl  of  Manchester  for 
demolishing  the  superstitious  pictures  and  ornaments  of  churches 
etc  within  the  county  of  Suffolk  in  the  years  1643-1644."  In 
August,  1641,  an  order  was  published  by  the  House  of  Commons 
"  for  the  taking  away  of  all  scandalous  pictures  out  of  Churches 
etc.,"  and  Manchester  received  his  commission  as  General  of  the 
associated  Eastern  Counties  in  1642.  A  good  deal  of  destruction 
of  this  kind  had  gone  on  since  the  Reformation,  but  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  it  was  done  more  systematically. 

Dowsing  confines  his  Journal  to  dated  entries  devoted  only  to 
the  registering  of  the  amount  of  destruction  he  carries  out  in  each 
place  he  visits,  and  it  is  obvious  that  he  has  a  certain  satisfaction 


i 


WILLIAM   DOWSING  121 

in  the  work  he  is  engaged  on.  The  entries  are  more  or  less  alike, 
but  a  series  taken  from  different  parts  of  the  Journal  may  be  given 
to  show  his  style  and  method  : 

Sudbury.     Peter's  Parish.     We  brake  down  a  Picture  of  God  the  Father» 

2  Crucifix's,  and  Pictures  of  Christ  about  an  himdred  in  all  ;  and  gave  order 
to  take  down  a  Cross  on  the  Steeple  ;  and  diverse  Azigels,  20  at  least  on  the 
Roof  of  the  Church. 

Sudbury.     We  brake  down  10  mighty  great  angels  in  glass  in  all  80. 

Haver.  We  brake  down  about  an  hundred  superstitious  Pictiires  of  God 
and  Christ ;  and  diverse  others  very  superstitious  ;  and  200  had  been  broke 
down  before  I  came.  We  took  away  two  popish  Inscriptions  with  ora  pro 
nobis  and  we  beat  down  a  great  stoneing  Cross  on  the  top  of  the  Church. 

Sometimes  the  "  we  "  is  exchanged  for  "I,"  showing  his  pride 
in  the  part  he  personally  took  in  the  work. 

Clare.     We  brake  down  1000  Pictures  superstitious ;    I  brake  down  200  ; 

3  of  God  the  Father  and  3  of  Clu-ist  and  the  Holy  Lamb,  and  3  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  lika  a  Dove  with  Wings  ;  and  the  12  Apostles  were  carved  in  Wood 
on  the  top  of  the  Roof  which  we  gave  order  to  take  down  ;  and  20  cherubima 
to  be  taken  down  ;  and  the  Smi  and  Moon  in  the  East  Windows,  by  the  King's 
Arms,  to  be  taken  down. 

Copdock.  I  brake  down  150  superstitious  pictures  2  of  God  the  Father  and 
2  Crucifixes  ;  did  deface  a  cross  on  the  Font  and  gave  order  to  take  down  a 
stoneing  cross  on  the  Chancel  and  to  levell  the  Steps  ;  and  took  a  Brass 
Inscription  with  ora  pro  nobis  and  cujus  animae  propitietur  Deus. 

Bramford.  A  cross  to  be  taken  off  the  steple :  we  brake  down  841  super- 
stitious Pictures,  and  gave  order  to  take  down  the  steps  and  gave  a  fortnight's 
time. 

We  were  at  the  Lady  Bruce's  House  and  in  her  Chappel ;  there  was  a 
Picture  of  God  the  Father,  of  the  Trinity,  of  Christ  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 
the  Cloven  Tongues  ;  which  we  gave  order  to  take  down  and  the  Lady  pro- 
mised to  do  it. 

Window-breaking  must  have  been  his  chief  occupation,  but  on 
one  occasion  "  we  could  not  reach  them  nor  would  they  help  us 
to  raise  the  ladders."  He  breaks  up  organs,  pots  for  holy  water, 
covers  for  fonts  and  wooden  images.  Sometimes  he  gives  orders 
for  the  local  authorities  to  carry  out  the  work,  as,  for  instance : 

Dunwich.  St.  Peter's  Church.  63  Cherubims,  80  at  least  of  JESUS  written 
in  Capital  Letters  on  the  Roof  and  40  superstitious  Pictures  and  a  cross  on 
the  top  of  the  Steeple.     All  was  promised  by  the  Churchwardens  to  be  done. 

He  visits  Ufford  in  January  and  comes  round  again  in  August 
to  see  if  his  orders  have  been  carried  out.  But  he  finds  that  the 
Churchwardens 


122  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

that  were  enjoined  these  things  above  three  months  afore  had  not  done  them 
in  May  and  I  sent  one  of  them  to  see  it  done,  but  they  woxild  not  let  him  have 
the  key. 

New  churchwardens  are  appointed  and 

Samuel  Canham  of  the  same  Town  said  "  I  sent  men  to  rifle  the  Church  ",  and 
Will  Brown  old  Churchwarden  said  "  I  went  about  to  pull  down  the  Church 
and  had  carried  away  part  of  the  Church." 

Not  content  with  the  damage  he  does  he  also  exacts  a  fee  of 
6s.  8d.  which  he  notes  do^^^l  at  the  end  of  many  of  his  entries. 
Occasionally  he  has  difficulty,  for  there  occurs  "  he  refused  to 
pay  the  6s  8d."  He  evidently  worked  hard  himself:  "  2  crucifixes 
which  I  brake  of  part,"  "  Organs,  which  I  brake,"  etc.  When 
he  was  employed  in  Cambridgesliire  an  eye-witness  described  him 
as  having  "  battered  and  beaten  downe  all  our  painted  glass." 

Incidentally  in  this  shocking  tale  of  destruction  one  learns  how 
richly  decorated  the  churches  were.  There  are  only  two  or  three 
occasions  on  which  he  notes  "  nothing  to  reform." 

A  visitor  to  some  of  our  Cathedrals  to-day  when  he  gazes  at 
nineteenth-century  stained  glass  may  regret  that  the  Government 
does  not  employ  a  judicious  Dowsing. 

The  Journal  was  originally  published  in  1786. 


ADAM  EYRE 

BORN  at  Haslehead,  in  Yorkshire,  in  1614,  Adam  Eyre 
served  in  the  army  during  the  Civil  War  under  Lord  Fairfax. 
While  in  the  army  he  kept  a  journal  which  unfortunately 
is  lost.  At  the  close  of  the  war  he  settled  down  at  Haslehead, 
where  he  spent  his  time  in  rural  occupations,  taking  an  active  ; 
part  in  the  management  of  the  affairs  of  the  parish.  For  two 
years,  1646-1648,  he  kept  a  diary  in  which  he  made  daily  entries 
with  great  regularity.  He  calls  it  "A  Dyurnall  or  catalogue 
of  all  my  actions  and  expenses  from  the  1st  of  January  1646." 
A  large  part  of  the  diary  is  taken  up  with  records  of  payments 
and  expenses,  his  comings  and  goings,  his  rides  and  his  inter- 
course with  his  neighbours.  The  entries  are  often  quite  per- 
functory and  of  httle  interest.  But  sometimes  he  enters  into 
greater  detail,  as,  for  instance : 


ADAM  EYRE  123 

I  stayed  at  home  all  day  and  in  the  afternoon  cut  a  come  which  putt  me 
to  extraordinary  trouble. 

He  records  the  fact  that  he  took  to  smoking  : 

This  day  I  took  a  pipe  of  tobacco  and  resolved  to  take  every  morning  one 
and  every  night  one  but  no  more. 

He  attends  a  football  match  : 

I  went  to  Bordhill  to  see  a  match  plaj^ed  at  the  foot  ball  between  Peniston 
and  Thurlston  but  the  crowd  hindered  the  sports  so  that  nothing  was  done. 

Eyre  was  evidently  a  reader  and  lent  and  borrowed  books 
and  occasionally  bought  them.  The  following  are  mentioned  : 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  History  of  the  World ;  Bateman  upon  Bar- 
tholomew ;  Crisp's  Sermons  ;  Saltmarshes'  Smoke  in  the  Temple ; 
Mr.  Dell's  Sermons ;  a  Discourse  on  the  Council  of  Basel ;  The 
Personal  Reign  of  Christ  upon  Earth,  by  Archer  ;  England's  Pro- 
pheticall  Merlin  and  the  Starry  Messenger,  by  Lylle  (W.  Lilly,  the 
astrologer). 

His  reading  perplexed  him,  for  he  writes :  "  had  varyous 
thoughts  by  reason  of  the  varyety  of  mens'  opinions  I  find  in 
reading."  Though  Adam  Eyre  probably  only  intended  his  diary 
to  be  a  bald  record  of  events,  gradually  he  begins  to  make  it  his 
confidant.  We  can  see  by  his  reading  that  he  is  of  a  rehgious 
disposition,  and  he  had  just  the  degree  of  morbidity  which  makes 
a  diarist  expose  himself  as  if  in  a  confessional.  There  is  no  happy 
note  in  the  writing,  and  his  wife  appears  to  have  been  a  sore 
trial  to  him,  so  that  he  finds  himself  in  his  frequent  moods  of 
depression  obliged  to  write  about  her.  The  only  word  of  anything 
approaching  appreciation  of  her  is  "  my  wife  was  very  extrava- 
gant in  her  old  humorous  way." 

The  first  outburst  occurs  six  months  after  he  had  begun  his 
diary : 

June  8.  This  mome  my  wife  began  after  her  old  manner  to  braule  and  revile 
mee  for  wishing  her  only  to  weare  such  apparrell  as  was  decent  and  comly 
and  accused  mee  of  treading  on  her  sore  foote  with  curses  and  othes  ;  which 
to  my  knowledge  I  touched  not,  nevertheless  she  continued  in  that  extacy  til 
noone. 

A  few  days  later :  "  This  night  my  wife  was  worse  in  words 
than  ever."  In  the  autumn :  "  This  day  was  my  wife  very 
angry  and  I  stayed  at  home  all  day." 

At  the  beginning  of  the  next  year  a  little  more  light  is  thrown 


124  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

on  the  domestic  differences  which  seems  to  show  the  fault  was  not 
all  on  one  side: 

Jan.  1.  This  morne  I  used  some  words  of  persuasion  to  my  wife  to  forbeare 
to  tell  mee  of  what  is  past  and  promised  her  to  become  a  good  husband  to  her 
for  ye  tyme  to  come  and  she  promised  me  likewise  shee  would  doe  what  I 
wished  her  in  anything  save  in  setting  her  hand  to  papers  ;  and  I  promised 
her  never  to  wish  her  therunto. 

This  may  have  been  a  reconciliation,  for  no  further  mention 
of  Mrs.  Eyre  occurs. 

Whether  it  was  infidelity,  drink  or  something  else  which  threw 
Adam  Eyre  from  time  to  time  into  a  paroxysm  of  depression  and 
self-condemnation  does  not  appear. 

There  is  far  less  record  of  drinking  than  is  usual  in  the  diaries 
of  this  period.  In  fact  only  once  does  he  write  :  "  God  forgive 
mee  I  drunk  too  much."  Nevertheless  the  depression  takes  hold 
of  him,  as  when  he  says  :  "  This  day  I  was  very  much  perplexed 
with  worldly  cares  and  labored  under  a  sore  temptation  all 
day,"  and  on  some  occasions  he  breaks  into  an  unintelligible 
cypher. 

As  time  goes  on  he  seeks  consolation  in  his  religion  and  entry 
of  the  day  ends  up  with  a  prayer.  Remorse  overtook  him  aftei 
punishing  Jane  (the  maid) : 

Oct.  9.  This  night  I  whipped  Jane  for  her  foolishness  as  yesterday  I  had 
done  for  her  sloathfulness  ;  and  hence  am  I  induced  to  bewayle  my  sinfull 
life  for  my  failings  in  the  presence  of  God  Almighty  are  questionless  greater 
than  hers  are  to  mee  ;  wherefore  unless  Thou,  my  most  merciful  God,  be 
mercifull  unto  mee  what  shall  become  of  mee  ? 

Dec.  7.  Let  not  my  present  dull  and  indisposedness  avert  Thy  favors 
from  me. 

Dec.  9.     I  must  needs  confess  I  am  weake  indeede  but  Hee  is  stil  my  defence. 

Jan.  8.  (1648).  This  day  I  have  been  very  much  troubled  with  worldly 
cares  but  Thou  O  God  whose  I  am  deliver  mee  I  pray  thee  from  the  guilt 
thereof. 

On  January  11  there  is  a  very  long  outpouring  of  penitence 
which  contains  the  following : 

I  very  well  remember  I  never  made  vow  in  all  my  life,  but,  through  weak- 
nesse  and  the  power  of  darknesse  overruling  mee,  I  have  most  shamefully 
broken  so  that  I  am  in  a  most  miserable  condition  by  natvire,  neither  have  I 
any  power  of  myselfe  to  think  one  good  thought  so  miserable  am  I. 

The  next  day  again  he  complains  of  "  yeeldding  to  the  cor- 


1 


GILES   MOORE  125 

ruptions  of  myne  own  depraved  imagination,"  and  occupies  many 
lines  in  the  entry  for  that  day  in  a  prayer  to  God.  But  after 
Avriting  a  few  days  later,  "  when  I  came  home,  I  was  very  angry 
and  caryed  myselfe  unsivilly,"  he  hardly  refers  to  his  faihngs 


again. 


Before  journeying  to  London  he  makes  a  sort  of  provisional 
will.  He  writes  a  "  httle  booke "  containing  the  particulars 
of  his  time  in  London,  but  this  is  missing. 

The  diary  ends  on  January  26,  1848-9,  and  he  sets  out  for 
London  the  following  day,  so  that  he  would  arrive  there  the  night 
before  the  execution  of  Charles  I,  of  which  probably  he  was  an 
eye-witness. 

It  would  seem  likely  that  this  rather  morbid  man  with  his 
pathetic  attempts  at  self-correction  continued  to  confide  in  the 
pages  of  Ms  diary.     But  nothing  further  from  his  pen  exists. 


GILES  MOORE 

GILES  MOORE,  who  was  rector  of  Horsted  Keynes, 
Sussex,  from  1655  to  1679,  kept  a  journal  which  can 
hardly  be  called  a  diary,  as  it  is  far  more  hke  an  account 
book,  though  he  never  adds  up  totals  or  makes  any  general 
survey  of  his  financial  position.  Yet  in  the  language  of  accounts 
he  records  all  his  doings.  Besides  his  actual  purchases,  it  would 
seem  that  marriage,  death,  illness,  journeys,  and  indeed  every 
incident  in  his  hfe  presented  itself  to  him  from  the  point  of  view 
of  cost.  But  this  very  habit  gives  a  clue  to  his  character,  and 
his  purchases  also  throw  light  on  what  manner  of  man  he  was. 
There  is  an  extraordinarily  comic  effect  in  a  page  of  events  pre- 
sented in  this  pecuhar  style.  Occasionally  he  allows  himself 
a  little  more  freedom  and  gives  a  description  or  expresses  an 
opinion  without  immediate  reference  to  cost.  He  is  of  a  complain- 
ing disposition  and  resents  unnecessary  or  excessive  payments. 
He  puts  the  following  lines  as  a  heading : 

Indicat  hie  liber  de  me  tibi  plurima  lector  !  Omnia  quae  mere  mundana  ac 
vanafuere.  Wee  reckon  our  expenses  but  not  our  sins  ;  wee  account  what  wee 
expend  but  not  wee  offend. 

Here  are  a  few  typical  entries  : 

For  3  yards  and  |  of  scarlet  serge  of  which  I  made  the  library  cupboard 
carpet  besydes  my  wastcoate  made  thereof  15s.  J.  Daves  brought  me  from 
Grinsted  4  stone  of  beefe  which  at  22d  the  stone  and  2  lb  of  sewet  at  4d  came 


126  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

to  8s.  I  payed  for  barboxiring  for  6  moneths  7s  6d  and  for  being  blooded 
though  I  was  so  cold  that  I  bled  but  one  ounce  Is. 

I  bought  my  wyfe  a  fat  hog  to  spend  in  my  family  for  which  I  paid  the 
smn  of  30s  the  2  flitches  of  bacon  when  dried  weighed  64  lb.  I  gave  her  to 
buy  a  qr  of  lamb  3s  6d.  • 

For  2  qts  of  sack  in  two  bottles  at  the  Widdow  Newports  4s.  For  a  pint 
of  sack  at  the  Inn  at  Lindfield  Is  for  a  quart  of  claret  Is.  I  bought  of  a 
traveller  4  Venesionne  glasses  2  of  one  sort  and  2  of  another  2s. 

I  gave  the  howling  boys  6d  (it  was  the  custom  to  wassail  the  orchards). 

As  to  clothes,  he  appears  to  purchase  a  great  variety : 

I  bought  two  payre  of  gloves  for  which  I  payed  2s  3d  the  payre  I  had  them 
faced  with  my  own  fringe  which  cost  mee  Is  4d. 

I  bought  a  levitical  girdle  containing  4  oz  of  silke. 

10s  &  J  a  yd  of  velvet ;    two  worsted  canonical  girdles  5s. 

I  bought  2  yards  and  ^  of  Devonshire  red  bazes  to  make  me  a  waistcoat 
for  which  I  paid  7s  4d  and  I  bought  a  payre  of  silk  stockings  for  which  I 
paid  £1:1;  for  silken  tops  6s  6d  and  for  a  payer  of  black  worsted  stockings 
I  gave  5s. 

I  bought  of  my  comitryman  Mr.  Cooke  a  shaggy  demicastor  hat  of  the 
fashion  for  which  I  payed  16s  6d. 

With  his  scarlet  waistcoat,  silk  stockings,  fringed  gloves, 
levitical  girdle  and  shaggy  demicastor  hat  the  reverend  gentle- 
man must  have  been  a  very  picturesque  sight. 

When  ill  he  describes  his  symptoms.  He  takes  "  physicke  " 
and  is  "  mightily  sicke  "  and  ends  up  with  an  entry  of  the  exact 
sum  he  pays  the  doctor,  the  nurse,  and  the  curate  who  took  his 
duty.  On  another  occasion  he  consults  Mr.  Richo,  chirurgeon, 
and  gives  him 

for  advising  about  the  tiu:ning  about  of  my  neck  £1.  For  2  dozen  of  pills  Ss 
and  for  a  pint  of  sack  Is.  His  direction  is  that  I  am  to  take  3  pills  over  night 
and  anything  wai'm  in  the  morning  once  in  two  dayes  and  if  I  am  no  better 
I  am  to  use  a  large  blyster  behind  the  shoulder  blade ;  to  do  it  againe  in  a 
fortnight  and  then  afterwards  to  shave  my  head. 

Two  or  three  times  he  expresses  annoyance  in  his  accounts. 
He  has  to  pay  a  considerable  sum  for  repairing  the  chancel,  "  all 
of  which  was  occasioned  by  and  through  the  defaulte  and  neglect 
of  Mistresse  Sapphira  Lightmaker  in  not  keeping  up  her  chancel." 
He  also  pays  for  the  mending  of  a  bridge  "  for  whiche  shee  would 
not  allow  me  one  penney  when  I  moved  her  unto  it,  no,  not  one 
farthing  !  though  shee  stripped  a  good  part  of  my  church  to  lay 
her  leads." 


GILES   MOORE  127 

We  can  picture  the  interview.  The  Rev.  Giles  Moore  as  red  as 
his  waistcoat,  and  Sapphira  Lightmaker  simply  laughing  at  him. 
Her  very  name  suggests  it. 

Giles  Moore  has  a  god-daughter  Mat.  We  get  little  glimpses 
of  her  through  the  accounts. 

I  carried  Mat  up  to  London  buying  for  lier  a  new  riding  suite  for  which  I 
payed  28s. 

I  gave  Mat  Is  to  play  withall  and  I  gave  her  2s  towards  a  payr  of  stockings 
which  she  is  to  knit  for  herselfe.  I  also  gave  her  Is  which  she  is  to  spend  at 
dancings. 

I  sent  for  Mat's  board  for  6  weeks  at  Mistress  Chalmers  during  which  time 
shee  made  mee  shirts  and  bands  £1  :  10  and  I  gave  her  to  buy  a  hood  at  the 

ftoire  5s. 

He  projects  a  marriage  for  her  and  writes  to  a  neighbouring 
rector  a  cautious  letter  in  which  there  is  actually  no  mention  of 
any  payment.     In  this  amusing  epistle  he  says  : 

I  do  not  so  little  value  you,  nor  your  son,  but  that  if  the  young  man  could 
;  fancy  her  for  a  wyfe  this  advowson  and  that  well  stocked  .  .  .  together  also 
with  library  when  I  leave  this  world,  I  shoxild  not  (with  her  consent  thereto 
given)  which  shee  hath  no  reason  to  deny,  judge  her  amisse  bestowed. 

Nothing  came  of  this  matchmaking,  however,  and  two  years 

later  Mat  married  Mr.  Citizen.     But  the  marriage  only  produces 

;  from  the  pen  of  our  diarist  an  entry  of  the  amount  he  spent  on 

;  sack  and  "  meate  extraordinary,"  and  a  day  or  two  later  further 

details  as  to  the  exact  amount  he  "  layed  out  upon  Mat."     He  had 

words    with   Mr.    Citizen   in  the   following  year   and   calls   him 

"  knave  "  for  not  paying  up  money  which  was  due,  adding  the 

comment    '■'' Avaritia   cum   fraude   conjuncta.''''     When    he    visits 

I  his  god-daughter  later  he  gives  her  Is.  "  and  her  mayd  6d." 

He  takes  several  journeys  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  to  Chichester 
and  to  London,  but  it  is  always  the  same  thing :  we  only  get  an 
account  of  his  expenses  and  his  purchases.  Life  for  Giles  Moore 
was  purely  economic.  Money  might  not  always  pass,  sometimes 
there  was  barter,  as,  for  instance  : 

I  sent  to  Mr.  Hely  a  ribspare  and  hoggs  puddings  for  which  hee  returned  me 
a  box  of  pills  and  sermons. 

Or  a  prettier  one  : 

I  sent  Mistresse  Michelbome  a  galon  of  rose  water  and  1  quart  of  damasks, 
shee  sending  me  back  by  the  messenger  3  dozen  of  pigeons. 

He  makes  one  exception  in  what  we  may  call  his  accountant's 


128  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

style.  He  records  with  great  detail  the  illness  and  death  of  his 
brother  at  West  Cowes.  Of  course  he  finds  a  good  deal  to  say 
^\^th  regard  to  the  will  and  the  legacies,  but  he  also  follows  the 
course  of  illness,  which  has  ups  and  downs.  His  brother  one  day 
seems  to  have  taken  the  law  into  his  own  hands  and  attempted 
a  very  drastic  form  of  remedy  for  anyone  in  the  "  anguish  and 
misery  "  of  a  high  fever.  Being  left  alone  for  a  moment  "  hee 
came  forth  speedily  and  leaped  into  a  well  which  was  ten  feete 
deep  in  water,  out  of  which  he  was  quickly  taken  and  put  into  a 
warme  bed."  It  is  not  surprising  that  the  following  week  he 
died,  the  burial  only  calling  forth  from  our  diarist  a  list  of  the 
payments  he  had  to  make. 

The  last  entry  is  dated  August  3,  1679,  and  Giles  Moore  died 
on  October  3. 

The  manuscript  was  in  the  possession  of  the  incumbent  of 
Horsted  Keynes,  and  from  it  extracts  were  printed  in  the  Sussex 
Archaeological  Collections  in   1853. 


HENRY  NEWCOMBE 

THE  only  portion  that  remains  of  the  very  full  diary 
which  Newcombe  kept  throughout  the  greater  part  of 
his  life  is  the  section  which  covers  the  period  from  Sep- 
tember 30,  1661,  to  September  29,  1663.  He  was  a  Presbyterian 
minister,  educated  at  Cambridge,  ordained  in  1648,  rector  of 
Gaws worth  1650,  and  subsequently  in  Manchester.  He  died  in 
1695.  The  diary  is  a  daily  record  dealing  with  his  duties,  his 
movements  and  his  sermons,  but  it  contains  also  domestic  details, 
self-examination,  resolutions  and  meditations  on  life.  Although 
he  is  very  strict  in  his  manner  of  living,  he  is  not  above  a  game  of 
bowls,  shovel-board  or  billiards,  and  even  reading  comedies. 
But  his  extreme  piety  is  the  keynote  of  the  journal.  In  the 
following  quotations  the  constant  abbreviations  he  uses  have 
been  written  out  in  full. 

Preaching. 

It  was  sacrament  day  and  I  preached  on  1  Cor.  XI.  25.     The  Lord  assisted 
mee  much  on  that  subject  and  I  hope  it  made  the  sacrament  more  lively  and 
refreshing.     This  remembering  of  Christ  livelyly  and  effectually  is  of  great  . 
use  to  a  poore  soule. 


In  the  aftemoone  I  preached  at  Haslenden  on  1  Pet.  IV.  3.     Mary  went 
with  me  to  the  towne.     And  at  night  wee  had  much  pleasant  discovu-se  yet 


I 


HENRY  NEWCOMBE  129 

vergeinge  to  a  good  purpose  about  the  vanity  of  the  world  etc.  And  after 
supper  we  had  repetition  and  prayer.  And  so  indeed  had  a  Sabbath  past 
expectation. 

He  notes  down  very  frequently  his  resolutions  in  a  sort  of  list : 

1.  The  Lord  helpe  mee  in  secret  dutys.  2.  To  be  of  a  quicker  and  tender 
conscience.  3.  Atheisme.  Sure  the  worke  of  my  conscience  of  late  may  doe 
something  against  that  distemper.  4.  What  not  a  word  for  God  upon  occa- 
sion !  5.  O  what  a  thing  will  it  be  to  be  in  heaven.  6.  The  Lord  arme  mee 
with  patience. 

1.  Pride  and  vaineglory.  2.  Slothfulness.  3.  An  unwillingness  to  secret 
dutys.     4.  Want  of  spirituality.     5.  Impatience.     6.  Distrust. 

Alas  I  must  endeavour  to  walke  closer  with  God  or  I  cannot  keepe  cart  on 
wheeles. 

I  was  weary  this  night  and  upon  that  account  very  short  and  poore  in  dutys 
but  I  must  beware  that  wearyness  of  body  betray  mee  not  as  it  hath  done  to 
slightynes  in  my  course  and  to  expose  mee  to  a  sharpe  affliction  for  the  quick- 
ening of  mee,  for  that  usually  is  the  end  of  all  such  bouts  with  me. 

But  one  resolution  he  finds  considerable  difficulty  in  observing. 
It  is  with  regard  to  smoking. 

My  base  heart  is  but  too  much  concerned  with  this  tobacco. 

How  tobacco  doth  too  much  fill  my  thoughts  and  selfe  denial  about  such  a 
stmkmge  thing  might  do  well. 

I  resolve  to  let  this  tobacco  alone  and  to  studdy  to  forget  it  for  it  'doth  mee 
no  good. 

This  base  tobacco.  Take  it  before  secret  dutys  then  it  prevents  them,  put 
it  ofE  and  then  my  base  heart  would  count  of  it  all  the  time  of  duty. 

I  doe  see  my  slavery  with  this  tobacco.     When  it  can  hasten  a  duty  to  be 
at  It  and  when  I  know  it  it  doth  not  benefit  mee  but  aUmost  aUways  makes 
,  mee  sicke  it  is  high  time  to  dismisse  it.     But  sometimes  to  deny  it  when  it  is 
I  so  desired  were  but  a  small  degree  of  self  denial. 

It  is  curious  that  he  should  have  been  so  fond  of  smoking  if  it 
almost  always  made  him  ill.  There  is  a  vein  of  melancholy 
and  self-reproach  constantly  recurring  in  all  he  writes.  This 
is  typical : 

O  my  soule  where  have  I  beene  all  this  while.  So  dead  in  dutys.  So 
jendles  m  my  studdys.  So  unprofitable  in  company.  So  unedifying  in  my 
family.  So  negligent  of  meditation.  So  formall  in  preachinge.  O  my  soule 
where  hast  thou  beene  ?     The  Lord  put  some  life  into  mee. 

But  he  rather  revelled  in  self-disparagement,  even  with  his 
fnends : 


130  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Mr.  Bagshawe  came  to  mee  at  my  returne  and  sate  with  me  2  houi-es.  A 
deale  of  sweet  discourse  wee  had  about  the  baseness  of  both  our  hearts. 

He  often  mentions  the  health  of  his  children  and  his  wife, 
who  was  a  sister  of  Ashmole's  first  wife. 

The  Lord  hath  restored  my  childe.  But  my  great  security  hath  moved  the 
Lord  to  lay  my  wife  somewhat  low  this  day  by  distemper  and  great  paine  upon 
her. 

I  got  home  about  2  and  fotmd  my  wife  pretty  hearty,  havinge  taken  phy- 
sicke  this  day  and  it  workinge  very  easyly  with  her.     A  great  mercy. 

What  a  deale  of  patience  is  requisite  to  beare  any  converse  with  our  little 
children.  How  peevish  and  foolish  are  they  !  and  what  fits  doth  our  heavenly 
Father  beare  with  us  in  ! 

The  inevitable  servant  troubles  are  of  course  noted  ; 

The  villanous  carriage  of  the  servants  that  were  all  out  at  that  time  of  the 
night  on  Saturday  night. 

Mary  quarrelled  with  her  mistress  and  is  to  goe  away.  The  Lord  provide 
us  with  good  servants. 

He  is  critical,  not  to  say  a  little  pharisaical,  sometimes  with 
regard  to  company : 

We  had  a  deal  of  company  ;  and  saw  the  free  grace  of  God  that  wee  are  not 
given  up  to  the  same  extreme  vanitys  and  follys  that  others  are.  Alas  how 
are  some  empty  frothy  ones  of  the  gentry  to  be  pittyed  ! 

After  supper  wee  were  at  Lawrence  Gardner's  till  pretty  late.  Very  merry 
and  cheerefull  with  our  neighbours.  I  would  thinke  of  beinge  a  little  savory 
in  our  merth  and  to  part  so  if  it  might  be. 

But  we  can  hardly  believe  there  was  much  mirth,  savoury  or 
unsavoury,  when  Newcombe  was  present. 

There  are  notes  on  his  own  health ;  he  has  "  collides  "  and 
"  sweats  finely  upon  takeinge  a  rosemary  posset,"  but  he  is 
chiefly  concerned  in  meditation  on  purely  religious  theses  in 
which  he  generally  finds  "  much  savour  and  sweetness."  We 
may  quote  rather  a  shrewd  observation  on  the  subject  of  a  mounte- 
bank ; 

I  went  out,  whether  wisely  or  no,  with  my  wife  to  see  the  mountebank  on 
the  stage.  The  fellow  that  acted  the  foole  made  many  really  fooles  under  that 
looked  and  laughed  at  him.  He  but  acted  foole  and  got  money,  they  were  real 
fooles  and  gave  their  money. 

There  is  something  original  and  telling  in  Newcombe's  style,  j 
Even  Ms  references  to  the  weather  are  picturesque,  as,  for  in- 


OLIVER  HEYWOOD  131 

stance,  "  had  a  very  sad  dash  of  raine  cominge  over  the  liills." 
He  talks  of  '^  ells  of  time,"  "  tough  debates  "  :  a  difficult  business 
is  "a  tickle,"  and  when  an  event  does  not  come  off  he  Avrites 
"  it  misst."  But  the  diary  is  only  a  fragment ;  he  wrote  as  well 
an  "  Abstract  "  or  sort  of  autobiography  telhng  his  adventures 
from  his  early  life  onward.  By  the  Abstract  his  whole  career 
can  be  traced  and  his  political  opinions  during  times  of  revolution 
and  change  are  related. 

Newcombe's  career  is  fully  set  out  in  the  preface  to  the  printed 
edition  of  the  diary  which  was  pubhshedby  the  Cheetham  Society 
in  1849. 


OLIVER  HEYWOOD 

IN  the  seventy-two  years  of  his  hfe  (1630-1702)  Oliver  Hey- 
wood,    the    Presbyterian    divine  of  Northowian,  Yorkshire, 
made  the  most  careful  and  elaborate  record  of  his  religious 
experiences.     Not  content  with  keeping  an  ordinary  diary,   he 
wrote  his  autobiography,  long  accounts  of  the  members  of  his 
family  with  a  genealogy,  an  "  Event  Book  "  giving  "  covenants, 
experiences,  self-reflections,"  "  combats  with  sin,"  and  "  groan- 
ing of  the  soul,"  a  long  register  of  "  Returns  of  Prayer,"  and 
many  other  observations  and  memoranda.     All  these  are  carefully 
written  down  in  a  cramped  hand  in  small  notebooks,  and  we  get 
a  very  complete  inside  picture  of  a  conscientious,  self-absorbed 
man  exercising  ceaseless  discipline  on  himself  in  his  spiritual  hfe, 
'  displaying  wonderful  powers  of  concentration  in  religious  matters,' 
noting  the  hand  of  God  in  every  incident  that  occurs,  occupied 
in  study,  and  more  especially  in  preaching,  courageously  com- 
bating   the    obstacles    and    disabihties    which    Nonconformists 
encountered  in  those  days,  and  taking  himself  very  seriously. 
But  of  course  the  picture  is  incomplete ;    the  detail  given  from 
within  only  concerns  preaching,  prayer,  visiting  the  sick,  and 
study,  with  occasional  references  to  his  health  and  his  family, 
and  full  as  it  is,  is  very  dull  and  monotonous  reading.     From 
without  we  have  no  picture  in  words  as  to  how  Ohver  Heywood 
impressed  his  contemporaries  ;    we  only  have  a  print  showing 
a  rather  stout,  self-satisfied  looking  ecclesiastic  with  ringlets  and 
a  double  chin.     His  preaching  record  shows  him  to  have  been  a 
man  of  immense  energy,  and  when  he  is  suspended  from  minister- 
ing in  the  diocese  of  York  after  the  passing  of  the  Act  of  Uni- 


132  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

formity,  when  he  is  apprehended,  or  when  he  encounters  all  sorts 
of  difficulties,  he  continues  undismayed  preaching  and  preaching, 
if  not  in  a  church  then  in  his  own  house,  or,  after  the  Five  Mile 
Act  had  become  law,  as  an  itinerant  evangelist. 

The  diaries  are  incomplete,  but  they  cover  the  greater  part 
of  the  period  between  1666  up  to  his  death.  A  few  typical 
entries  may  be  given  : 

I  preacht  to  a  pretty  f ul  congregation  at  the  house  of  Jeffery  Beck  the  Lord 
made  it  a  refreshing  night  to  many  soules  though  our  adversarys  watcht  and 
gnasht  their  teeth  when  they  saw  so  many  coming  together. 

There  was  a  numerous  congregation  from  all  parts  and  I  had  great  liberty 
of  speech  in  preaching  and  praying  but  not  such  melting  of  heart  as  sometimes 
I  have  enjoyed. 

When  I  was  in  the  pulpit  singing  a  psalm  comes  up  Mr.  Broadhead  vicar 
of  Batley  passing  among  the  croud  up  the  alley  and  got  with  much  adoe  to  the 
dark  bade  him  tell  Mr.  Heywood  to  come  down  and  let  him  have  his  own 
pulpit  and  then  hasted  away  he  left  his  goune  at  an  house  took  horse  and  went 
to  Batley  told  Justice  CJopley  what  a  multitude  there  was  at  Morley  hearing 
a  Non-conformist  he  took  no  notice  of  it,  but  let  us  alone  and  so  through  god's 
mercy  we  enjoyed  the  day  quietly  and  it  was  a  good  day  blessed  be  god. 

Went  to  George  Horsmans  house  at  little  Woodhouse  there  preacht  and 
before  I  had  done  was  apprehended  by  constables  carryed  to  the  Mayor  who 
sent  me  to  the  common  prison. 

However,  he  is  released,  and  four  days  later  is  preaching  again. 
Shortly  afterwards  he  is  served  with  a  warrant  "  to  make  distresse 
upon  my  goods  "  in  payment  of  a  fine  under  the  Conventicle  Act. 

A  few  of  the  references  to  his  wife  and  family  may  be  quoted : 

As  the  Lord  had  blessed  me  abroad  so  my  poor  family  at  home,  they  have 
been  in  health  my  sons  have  been  very  towardly,  plyed  their  book,  read  chap- 
ters, learned  chatichismes,  got  some  chapters  and  psalmes  without  book, 
John  repeated  the  12th,  Eliezor  the  10th  of  Revelations  last  night  in  bed — 
blessed  be  god. 

On  Satm-day  morning  my  sons  having  not  made  their  latin  in  expectation 
to  goe  to  Halifax  were  loath  to  goe  to  schoole  yet  I  threatened  them,  they  went 
crying,  my  bowels  workt  and  I  sent  to  call  them  back  and  I  went  into  my 
study  and  fel  on  my  knees  and  found  sweet  meltings — if  god  set  in  a  little 
they  will  occasion  much  good. 

Aug.  24  (1671)  called  black  Bartholomew  day  I  resolved  to  keep  a  fast  and 
because  I  came  home  but  last  night  and  could  get  no  more  company  I  kept 
it  with  my  family,  the  forenoon  we  spent  in  prayer  beginning  at  youngest 
Eliezer  prayed  first  very  sensibly,  tho  short,  John  prayed  both  a  long  time 
and  exceeding  pertinently  and  affectionately  weeping  much.  I  admired  at 
it,  god  helped  my  maid,  my  wife  and  myself  wonderfiaily — oh  what  a  melting 
duty  and  day  was  it ! 


OLIVER  HEYWOOD  183 

Food  he  never  mentions,  nor  any  trivial  mundane  matters, 
but  two  examples  may  be  given  of  references  to  his  own  health. 

I  tossed  all  the  night  in  bed  and  could  not  sleep  one  wink  by  reason  of 
toothach  yet  was  pretty  wel  the  day  after  then  I  saw  the  mercy  of  sleep  and 
felt  my  unfitnes  for  holy  thoughts  in  pain  for  if  I  could  have  got  my  thoughts 
on  any  good  subject  I  should  soon  have  slept. 

I  preacht  twice  tho  I  was  little  fit  but  god  graciously  helped  and  hearts  were 
much  mlayed  by  the  advantage  of  my  distemper  but  it  increased  tormenting 
pain  m  my  head.  On  Monday  I  was  blooded,  on  Thursday  morning  I  had  a 
violent  fit  of  tormenting  pain  al  over  my  body  which  lasted  for  10  houres  I 
was  set  upon  a  rack  but  god  was  mercifull  to  this  poore  worme  so  that  I  had 
no  more  fits  but  from  thence  forth  the  Lord  recovered  me.  .  .  . 

He  is  very  successful  with  his  prayers  for  the  sick  and  those 
who  are  in  trouble  :  "  a  boysterous  gentleman  now  under  troubles 
of  mind  "  is  "  wonderfuly  affected  by  my  company  and  discourse." 
But  the  main  composition  of  the  diary 'is  the  praying  and  preach- 
ing and  journeying  from  one  place  to  another.  In  addition  to 
"  melting,"  he  has  frequently  "  comfortable  enlargement  and 
assistance,"  and  on  one  occasion  "  such  a  measure  of  affection, 
flood  of  teares,  and  large  elocution  as  I  can  never  remember.'' 
As  time  goes  on  the  actual  diary  entries  become  very  brief,  the 
event  book  containing  more  of  his  prayers,  supphcations, 'self- 
examination  and  resolutions.  After  1677  the  diary  entries  are 
daily,  but  seldom  more  than  one  or  two  sentences.     Such  as  : 

■■    Saturday  I  stayed  at  home  studyed  god  helpt  and  oh  wt  meltings  of  heart 
had  I  m  prayer  with  my  wife  !   blessed  be  god. 

Lord's  day  I  preached  at  Flockton  oh  what  a  good  day  was  it  !  god  enlarged 
my  heart  in  prayer  wonderfully. 

In  the  last  four  years,  in  addition  to  notes  on  prayer  and 
preaching,  he  gives  the  names  of  his  visitors  and  those  whom 
he  meets.  He  begins  noting  his  last  illness  :  "  I  was  but  ill  " 
"  I  was  very  wrong,"  "  had  much  adoeto  get  up  into  my  cham- 
ber,"  and  the  last  entry  is  written  five  days  before  his  death. 

The  volumes  in  which  the  diaries,  etc.,  were  pubhshed  in  1883 
contain  also  registers  and  other  lists  compiled  by  Oliver  Heywood, 
and  are,  therefore,  of  considerable  antiquarian  interest.  He  was 
the  author  of  a  number  of  rehgious  books. 


134  ENGLISH  DIARIES 


RALPH  THORESBY 

THE  habit  of  keeping  a  diary  was  taught  to  Ralph  Thores- 
by  by  his  father.  "  I  would  have  you,"  wrote  John 
Thoresby,  "  in  a  little  book,  which  you  may  either  buy  or 
make  of  two  or  three  sheets  of  paper,  make  a  little  journal  of 
anything  remarkable  every  day  principally  as  to  yourself.  .  .  . 
I  have  thought  this  a  good  method  for  one  to  keep  a  good 
tolerable  decorum  in  actions  because  he  is  accountable  to  him- 
self as  well  as  to  God,  which  we  are  too  apt  to  forget." 

Consequently,  out  of  respectful  devotion  to  his  father,  Ralph 
began,  at  the  age  of  20,  in  1667,  to  keep  a  regular  daily  journal, 
"  chiefly  designed  for  my  daily  direction  and  reproof,"  and  he 
retained  the  habit  till  within  two  months  of  his  death  in  1724. 

Thoresby  was  an  antiquary ;  he  wrote  a  large  work  on  the 
topography  of  Leeds,  his  native  town,  as  well  as  a  book  on  Leeds 
churches.  He  received  a  commercial  education  partly  in  Hol- 
land, but  his  mercantile  concerns  were  not  very  successful.  He 
was  deeply  reHgious.  In  1683  he  was  prosecuted  as  a  Noncon- 
formist, but  in  1699,  after  getting  on  intimate  terms  with  the 
Bishop  of  Carlisle  and  the  Archbishop  of  York,  he  abandoned 
his  connection  with  the  Dissenters.  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
prayer  and  penitence  in  the  diary,  but  his  archaeological  and 
genealogical  studies,  his  interest  in  architecture,  antiquities, 
manuscripts,  coins,  etc.,  gradually  absorbed  his  time  and  atten- 
tion, and  towards  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  while  the  prayers  and 
petitions  continue,  they  become  less  frequent  and  a  little  more 
perfunctory.  In  1697  he  was  elected  a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society, 
and  he  had  close  relations  ^^^th  such  men  as  Camden,  Rymer, 
Sloane,  Le  Neve,  and  he  also  knew  Evelyn. 

Thoresby  was  intensely  industrious,  through  many  years  of  his 
life  rising  in  the  morning  at  five  or  even  earlier.  His  diary  is 
filled  mainly  with  his  reHgious  reflections,  his  antiquarian  pur- 
suits, his  travels,  and  occasional  references  to  his  health.  He  just 
mentions  his  wife  and  children,  but  abstains  from  giving  any 
domestic  details.  He  epitomises  sometimes  at  great  length 
sermons  he  hears,  and  self-reproach  is  the  keynote  of  his  private 
rehgious  meditations.  His  penitence,  however,  is  of  a  general 
character ;  he  does  not  particularise  with  regard  to  his  short- 
comings. Here  are  some  characteristic  sentences  extracted  from 
various  parts  of  the  diary  : 


RALPH   THORESBY  135 

Went  to  bed  with  wet  cheeks. 

Spent  too  much  of  the  day  in  frivolous  visits.  I  doubt  my  affections  are  too 
much  bent  upon  books. 

By  reason  of  the  quivering  and^dithering  of  my  body  and  the  depravedness 
of  my  heart  I  could  not  understand  anything  to  purpose. 

Rivers  of  tears  issued  from  my  eyes. 

Spent  most  of  the  evening  too  freely  in  company.  Alas  !  that  I  have  lived 
so  long  and  done  so  little  to  any  good  purpose. 

Lord,  discover  my  naughty  heart  more  and  more  to  me. 

I,  an  useless  unprofitable  cumber -ground.  Much  broken  in  spirit  for  fear 
of  a  snare. 

There  is  no  self-righteousness  in  his  self-depreciation.  He  has 
a  high  standard  and  is  genuinely  penitent  when  he  falls  short 
of  it.     His  manner  of  life  is  consistently  studious  and  austere. 

He  tells  us  of  seventeen  particular  studies  of  the  Bible  he  made 
during  his  life,  with  various  notes,  paraphrases,  analyses,  and 
annotations,  and  in  addition  to  this  he  read  it  through  six  times 
by  itself. 

When  he  is  unable  to  go  to  church  he  reads  "  six  of  Blair's 
sermons."  When  setting  out  for  a  journey  he  asks  certain 
devout  gentlemen  to  pray  for  him,  for  he  says,  "  it  is  a  good 
provision  against  dangers  to  have  a  stock  of  prayers  going  forward 
for  us."  Thoresby  evidently  believed  in  the  quantitative  as  well 
as  the  qualitative  efficacy  of  religious  devotions. 

As  time  passes  the  entries  become  filled  with  his  studies  and 
his  literary  and  archaeological  work  and  his  collections  of  coins, 
etc. 

When  he  journeys  he  makes  careful  note  of  churches  and 
buildings  and  describes  the  places  he  sees  in  detail.  An  extract 
from  his  description  of  a  dangerous  ride  near  Teviotdale  may  be 
given : 

Our  danger  here  was  most  dreadful  and  I  think  inconceivable  to  any  that 
were  not  present ;  we  were  upon  the  side  of  a  most  terrible  high  hill  in  the 
middle  whereof  was  a  track  for  the  horse  to  go  in  which  we  hoped  to  find 
broader  that  we  might  have  liberty  to  turn  the  horse  ;  but  instead  of  that  it 
became  so  narrow  that  there  was  an  impossibility  to  get  further.  .  .  .  We 
had  above  us  a  hill  so  desperately  steep  that  our  aching  hearts  durst  not 
attempt  the  scaling  of  it,  it  being  much  steeper  than  the  roofs  of  many  houses  ; 
but  the  hill  below  was  still  more  ghastly,  as  steep  for  a  long  way  as  the  walls 
of  a  house  :  and  the  track  we  had  to  ride  in  was  now  become  so  narrow  that 
my  horses  hinder  foot  slipped  off.  ...  To  add  to  our  torments  there  was  a 
river  run  all  along  close  to  the  foot  of  the  precipice  which  we  expected  every 


136  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

moment  to  be  plunged  into  and  into  eternity.  In  this  extremity  ther  was 
no  way  bnt  by  catching  hold  of  the  boughs  of  a  tree,  to  throw  myself  off  on 
the  wrong  side  of  the  horse,  and  to  climb  up  the  hill. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  following  example  of  juvenile 
smoking  can  be  equalled: 

Evening  with  brother  at  Garraway's  coffee  house  :  was  surprised  to  see 
his  sickly  child  of  three  years  old  fill  its  pipe  of  tobacco  and  smoke  it  as  aud- 
farandhj  as  a  man  of  three  score  after  that  a  second  and  third  pipe  without  the 
least  concern  as  it  is  said  to  have  done  above  a  year  ago. 

The  parent  of  the  "  movies  "  it  appears  existed  as  early  as 
1679. 

I  afterwards  called  to  see  the  moving  Pictures ;  a  curious  piece  of  art ;  the 
landscape  looks  as  an  ordinary  picture  till  the  clockwork  behind  the  curtain 
be  set  at  work,  and  then  the  ships  move  and  sail  distinctly  upon  the  sea  till 
out  of  sight ;  a  coach  comes  oi^t  of  the  town,  the  motion  of  the  horses  and 
wheels  are  very  distinct  and  a  gentleman  in  the  coach  that  salutes  the  com- 
pany :    a  hunter  also  and  his  dogs  keep  their  course  till  out  of  sight. 

Thoresby  came  of  a  short-lived  family,  and  when  his  birthday 
comes  round  he  often  reflects  on  the  short  space  of  time  he  has 
before  him.  .  .  .  But  he  lived  to  the  age  of  67,  and  managed 
to  fill  his  life  very  full  with  reading,  writing  and  research.  He 
founded  a  museum  in  Leeds,  in  which  all  his  manuscripts  and 
papers,  as  well  as  his  collection  of  antiquities  and  coins,  were 
housed.  In  1764  the  collection  was  dispersed.  The  diary  was 
found  later  Ipng  neglected  in  a  garret.  It  was  rescued,  but 
found  to  be  incomplete,  the  records  of  several  years  being  lost. 
Mr.  Joseph  Hunter,  who  edited  and  published  the  diary  in  two 
volumes  in  1830,  believed  that  if  the  manuscripts  were  complete 
we  should  find  that  there  was  not  a  single  day  in  Thoresby's  life 
for  which  he  had  not  accounted. 


SIR  WALTER  CALVERLEY 

A  NOTEBOOK,  which  is  just  as  much  or  just  as  little  a 
diary  as  several  quoted  in  these  pages,  was  kept  by  Sir 
k.  Walter  Calverley,  who  resided  at  Esholt,  in  Yorkshire. 
He  made  irregular  entries,  beginning  with  notes  concerning  the 
earhest  part  of  his  hfe,  "  15  Jan.  1669-70  I  Walter  Calverley 
was  borne,"  down  to  1718.  Two  early  experiences  give  one  hope 
that  the  diarist  was  a  humorist ; 


SIR  WALTER  CALVERLEY  137 

8.  Oct.  1671.     I  fell  into  a  tube  of  water  and  had  like  to  have  been  drowned. 
10  or  20  June  1672.     I  fell  into  a  panfull  of  milk  and  was  taken  out  for  dead. 

But  unfortunately  no  spark  of  humour  or  indeed  personal 
opinion  occurs  again  throughout  the  pages,  which  consist  merely 
of  a  recital,  often  very  elaborate,  of  business  matters,  deaths, 
accidents,  visits,  with  an  occasional  reference  to  cock-fighting. 
Sir  Walter  was  evidently  a  very  active  and  influential  man.  He 
entertains  largely  and  seems  to  have  been  lavish  with  his  gifts  of 
food,  etc.  It  was  the  custom  at  funerals  to  present  the  mourners 
with  "  white  scarffes  and  gloves."  He  must  have  made  a  large 
collection  of  these,  judging  by  the  number  of  funerals  he  attended. 
The  expenses  at  a  funeral  were  considerable.  At  his  sister's 
funeral : 

The  gentlemen  at  the  funerall  had  gloves  and  scarfes  which  were  above  60 
and  all  the  rest  gloves  which  perhaps  might  be  about  70  or  80  besides  gentle- 
mens'menetc.  And  there  was  £5  given  out  to  be  distributed  to  the  poor  .  .  . 
to  have  3d  a  piece,  but  they  finding  them  very  numerous  gave  them  but  2d 
a  piece  and  in  so  doing  distributed  all  that  and  10s  more.  So  tliat  there  were 
towards  700  poor  persons  that  had  doals. 

In  1706  he  marries  Juha,  daughter  of  Sir  William  Blackett, 
of  Wallington.  Sir  Walter's  account  of  his  marriage  is  purely 
from  the  point  of  view  of  settlements  and  expenses. 

In  1715,  the  year  of  the  Jacobite  rebellion,  his  father-in-law 
Sir  WiUiam  Blackett's  loyalty  was  strongly  suspected.  Sir 
Walter  gives  an  account  of  a  visit  he  paid  to  Sir  Walter  Hawkes- 
worth.  Sir  W.  Blackett  had  also  been  invited,  and  although 
"  his  charriot  and  6  and  two  saddle  horses  and  servants  "  arrived 
he  himself  did  not  turn  up.  But  "  a  messenger  "  appeared  on 
the  scene  who  searched  the  house,  cross-questioned  Calverley  and 
was  mystified  at  not  finding  Blackett  there. 

Later  Sir  Walter  has  a  controversy  with  Sir  William  Lowther 
over  this  business,  and  Lowther  "  fell  into  a  great  fury  "  on  the 
question  of  the  payment  of  the  poHce  who  were  searching  for  Sir 
William's  horses.  "By  his  behaviour  one  would  have  taken 
him  to  be  a  mad  man."  Before  he  went  away  "  he  took  a  glass 
of  wine  and  drunk  confusion  to  the  Pretender  and  all  his  adherents:' 

For  harbouring  Sir  Wilham  Blackett,  however.  Lord  Burling- 
ton "thought  fit  to  discharge  me  (Sir  Walter)  from  acting  as 
deputy-lieutenant."     He  was  reappointed  in   1730. 

He  gives  in  the  diary  an  instance  of  his  wife's  industry  : 

27.  Nov.  1716.     My  wife  finished  the  sowed  work  in  the  drawing-room  it 


188  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

having  been  three  years  and  a  half  in  doing.     The  greatest  part  of  it  has  been 
done  with  her  own  hands.     It  consists  of  ten  pannells. 

These  beautiful  panels  of  embroidery  bearing  this  date  decorate 
a  bedroom  at  Wallington,  where  Sir  George  Trevelyan,  Bart., 
now  resides. 

Except  for  the  incident  of  the  supposed  Jacobite  plot,  there  is 
nothing  in  the  notebook  which  is  of  interest  otherwise  than  from 
the  family  and  local  point  of  view. 


DR.   EDWARD  LAKE 

ALTHOUGH    it    only    covers     the     few     weeks    between 

/\  October,  1677,  and  April,  1678,  the  diary  of  Edward 
JL  jL  Lake  is  an  interesting  footnote  to  history  and  has  a 
distinctly  Pepysian  tone  in  its  record  of  royal  gossip. 

Lake  was  a  scholar  of  Wadham  College,  Oxford,  but  took  his 
degree  at  Cambridge.  In  1676  he  obtained  the  Archdeaconry 
of  Exeter,  At  Court  he  held  the  position  of  chaplain  and  tutor 
to  the  Princesses  Mary  and  Anne,  daughters  of  the  Duke  of  York 
(afterwards  James  II). 

We  will  first  quote  from  his  entries  with  regard  to  the  marriage 
of  Mary  with  the  Prince  of  Orange  (afterwards  William  III) : 

Oct.  21.  The  Duke  of  York  din'd  at  Whitehall  :  after  dinner  retum'd  to 
Saint  James',  took  Lady  Mary  into  her  closet  and  told  her  of  the  marriage 
designed  between  her  and  the  Prince  of  Orange  ;  whereupon  her  highness 
wept  all  that  afternoon  and  the  following  day. 

Nov.  4.  At  nine  o'clock  at  night  the  marriage  was  solemnized  in  her 
highness's  bedchamber.  The  Bang  [Charles  II]  who  gave  her  away  was  very 
pleasant  all  the  while  ;  for  he  desir'd  that  the  Bishop  of  London  would  make 
haste  lest  his  sister  bee  delivered  of  a  son  and  so  the  marriage  be  disappointed  ; 
and  when  the  prince  endowed  her  with  all  his  worldly  goods,  hee  willed  to  put 
all  up  in  her  pockett,  for  'twas  clear  gains.  At  eleven  o'clock  they  went  to 
bed,  and  his  majesty  came  and  drew  the  curtains  and  said  to  the  prince 
"  Now  nephew  to  your  worke  !     Hey  !     St.  George  for  England  !  "^ 

Nov.  5.  The  prince  by  his  favourite  Lord  Benthein  [?  Bentinck]  presented 
her  highnesse  with  jeweUs  to  the  value  of  £40,000. 

Nov.  9.  I  went  to  her  highnesse  to  take  leave  of  the  princesse  who  designed 
for  Holland  with  her  husband  the  Friday  after.  I  perceived  her  eyes  full 
of  tears,  herself  very  disconsolate,  not  only  for  her  sister's  illnesse  but  also 
for  some  discontent  occasioned  by  the  prince's  urging  her  to  remove  her 
lodgings  to  Whitehall  which  the  princesse  would  by  no  means  bee  persuaded. 


DR.   EDWARD   LAKE  139 

After  making  a  speech  to  her  and  asking  her  to  recommend  him 
to  the  King  he  adds  : 

In  fine,  I  wish'd  her  all  prosperity  that  God  would  bless  her  and  show  her 
favour  in  the  sight  of  strange  people  among  whom  she  went ;  wherewith  I 
kneeled  down  and  kissed  her  gown.  Her  highnesse  gave  mee  thanks  for  all 
my  kindnesses  and  assured  mee  shee  would  do  all  shee  could  for  mee  but  was 
able  to  say  no  more  for  weeping  and  so  turned  her  back  and  went  into  her 
closet. 

Nov.  16.  The  wind  being  easterly  their  highnesses  were  stiU  detain'd  at 
St.  James's.  This  day  the  court  began  to  whisper  the  prince's  sullennesse 
or  clownishnesse,  that  hee  took  no  notice  of  his  princesse  at  the  playe  and 
balle  nor  came  to  see  her  at  St.  James'  the  day  preceding  this  design'd  for  their 
departure. 

Nov.  19.  This  morning  about  9  o'clock  their  highnesses  aceompany'd  with 
his  majesty  and  royal  highness  and  took  barges  at  Whitehall  with  several 
other  persons  of  quality.  The  princess  wept  grievously  all  the  morning 
requested  the  Duchesse  of  Monmouth  to  come  often  to  her  sister  to  accompany 
her  to  the  chappie  the  first  time  shee  was  able  to  appear  there  and  to  think 
often  on  her  ;  she  left  two  letters  to  be  delivered  to  her  sister  as  soon  as  she 
was  recovered. 

The  Queen  observing  her  highnesse  to  weep  as  shee  took  leave  of  her  Majesty 
would  have  comforted  her  with  the  consideration  of  her  own  condition  when 
shee  came  to  England  and  had  never  tiU  then  seen  the  King  ;  to  whom  her 
highnesse  presently  replied  "  But  madam  you  came  into  England  ;  but  I  am 
going  out  of  England." 

Jan.  9.  I  was  very  sorry  to  understand  that  the  Princess  of  Orange  since 
her  being  in  Holland  did  sometimes  play  at  cards  upon  Sunday  which  would 
doubtless  give  offence  to  that  people.  I  remember  that  about  two  years  since 
being  with  her  highness  in  her  closett,  shee  required  my  opinion  of  it.  I  told 
her  I  could  not  say  'twas  a  sin  to  do  so,  but  'twas  not  expedient  and  for  fear 
of  giving  offence  I  advised  her  highness  not  to  do  it  nor  did  shee  play  upon 
Sundays  while  she  continued  here  in  England. 

Dr.  Lake  was  disappointed  at  not  being  made  chaplain  to  the 
Princess  in  Holland.     Dr.  Hooper  was  given  the  post, 

whilst  Dr.  Doughty  and  myself  who  had  been  her  highness's  chaplaini3  and 
tutors  many  years  were  for  some  (I  know  not  what)  reasons  laid  aside,  which 
occasioned  great  discourses  both  in  the  court  and  in  the  city. 

In  the  meanwhile  his  other  pupil,  the  Princess  Anne,  was  suffer- 
ing from  the  smallpox  : 

Her  highnesse  the  Lady  Ann  (whom  God  preserve)  having  been  5  days  sick 
appeared  to  have  the  smallpox  ;  whereupon  I  was  commanded  not  to  go  into 
her  chamber  and  read  prayers,  because  of  my  attendance  on  tho  princess  and 
the  other  children  which  very  much  troubled  me  and  the  more  becatise  her 
nurse  was  a  very  busy,  zealous  Roman  Catholick  and  would  probably  dis- 
compose her  if  shee  had  an  opportunity. 


140  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  returned  to  Lady  Anne  at  7  o'clock  and  found  her  as  I  left  her  ;  the  pox 
were  very  small  and  not  many. 

Lady  Anne  went  forth  of  her  chamber  to  see  the  duchesse  in  her  lodgings, 
the  servants  all  rejoicing  to  see  her  highnesse  so  perfectly  recover'd.  The 
Duke  visited  her  everyday  of  her  sicknesse  and  commanded  that  her  sister's 
departure  should  be  conceal'd  from  her  ;  wherefore  there  was  a  feigned 
message  sent  every  morning  from  the  princesse  to  her  highnesse  to  know  how 
she  did. 

There  are  other  entries  showing  the  devotion  of  the  two  sisters 
to  one  another  and  the  apparent  tragedy  of  Mary's  marriage 
with  William. 

Lake  discourses  at  some  length  on  ecclesiastical  appointments, 
more  especially  Sancroft's  elevation  to  the  Archbishopric  of 
Canterbury.  He  also  gives  a  little  parliamentary  news  and  some 
anecdotes  about  Charles  I,  one  of  which  may  be  quoted  : 

I  waited  on  the  Bishop  of  St.  David's  with  whom  I  fc^md  the  Bishop  of 
Exeter  who  disco\irsing  of  and  lamenting  the  debaucherys  of  the  nation  and 
particularly  of  the  court,  imputed  them  much  to  the  untimely  death  of  the 
old  King  who  was  always  very  severe  in  the  education  of  his  present  majesty  : 
in  so  much  that  at  St.  Mary's  in  Oxford  hee  did  once  hitt  him  on  the  head  with 
his  staSe  when  he  did  observe  him  to  laugh  (at  sermon  time)  upon  the  ladys 
who  sate  against  him. 

The  only  domestic  event  he  records  is  his  wife's  miscarriage. 

The  latter  part  of  the  diary  is  occupied  with  accounts  of 
journeys  in  his  archdeaconry. 

Few  as  the  pages  of  the  diary  are,  we  get  a  picture  of  a  shrewd, 
observant  man  who  was  evidently  ambitious  to  penetrate  into 
the  higher  circles  of  government. 

The  diary  was  pubUshed  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Camden 
Miscellanies. 


ABRAHAM  DE  LA  PRYME 

IT  is  a  pity  that  Abraham  de  la  Pryme  did  not  keep  a  regular 
diary,  because  he  was  evidently  very  observant  and  his  style 
is  picturesque.  But  Ephemeris  Vitae,  or  a  Diary  of  my  Own 
Life ;  containing  an  account,  likeivise,  of  the  most  observable  and 
remarkable  things  I  have  taken  notice  of  from  my  youth  up  hitherto, 
written  in  two  folio  volumes,  contains  very  little  personal  diary 
matter,  and  consists  chiefly  of  records  of  public  affairs,  a  great 
number  of  anecdotes,  and  detailed  notes  on  archaeological  and 
topographical  subjects  which  he  studied  as  an  antiquary. 


ABRAHAM  DE  LA  PRYME  141 

De  la  Pryme  was  bom  "  to  all  the  miseries  of  life,"  he  tells 
us,  in  1671.  He  says  in  this  diary,  which  he  began  writing 
when  he  was  about  12  years  old,  "  My  father  can  speak  Dutch 
and  my  mother  French  but  I  nothing  but  English."  He  was 
educated  at  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  and  while  there  he 
relates  the  story  of  the  burning  of  a  valuable  manuscript  of 

one  Mr.  Newton  (whom  I  have  very  oft  seen)  fellow  of  Trinity  College,  that 
is  mighty  famous  for  his  learning  being  a  most  excellent  mathematician 
philosopher,  divine  etc. 

This  was  the  famous  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  We  get  another  refer- 
ence to  him  in  1694,  when  Abraham  de  la  Pryme  gives  a  long 
account  of  the  excitement  caused  by  a  haunted  house  which  was 
supposed  to  contain  a  "  devilish  disturber." 

On  Monday  night  likewise  there  being  a  great  number  of  people  at  the  door 
there  chanced  to  come  by  Mr.  Newton  fellow  of  Trinity  College;  a  very 
learned  man  and  perceiving  our  fellows  to  have  gone  in  and  seeing  several 
scholars  about  the  door  "  Oh  !  yee  fools  "  says  he,  "  will  you  never  have  any 
witt,  know  yee  not  that  all  such  things  are  meer  cheats  and  impostures  ? 
Fy,  fy  !    go  home  for  shame  "  so  he  left  them  scorning  to  go  in. 

De  la  Pryme  in  his  youth  was  attracted  by  the  occult. 

I  and  my  companions  yester  night  try'd  again  what  we  could  do  but  nothing 
would  appear  quamvis  omnia  sacra  rite  peracta  fuerunt  ;  iterum  iterumque 
adjuravimus. 

But  he  is  dissuaded  from  such  practices  : 

He  (Mr.  Bohtm)  persuaded  me  exceedingly  to  desist  from  all  magical 
studdys  and  lays  a  company  of  most  black  sins  to  my  charge  which  he  sayd 
I  committed  by  darring  to  search  in  such  forbidden  things. 

He  wrote  a  history  of  Hatfield,  in  Yorkshire.  In  1698  he  was 
appointed  curate  in  Hull,  where  again  he  compiled  a  local  history. 
But  such  was  the  labour  attending  his  studies  that  he  confesses 
in  the  diary  "  that  he  began  to  grow  somewhat  weary  thereof." 

In  1701  he  was  given  the  hving  of  Thorne,  and  was  elected 
a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society.  He  died  in  1704.  Some  of  his 
anecdotes  are  amusing  and  told  at  great  length,  and  he  makes 
natural  history  notes  and  records  of  weather  phenomena.  The 
volumes  also  contain  copies  of  his  letter  to  Sir  Hans  Sloane  and 
others  on  antiquarian  and  scientific  subjects.  The  entries  are 
irregular  and  sometimes  undated  and  he  does  not  deal  with  any 
domestic  events.  An  instance  may  be  given  of  the  forcible 
manner  in  which  he  expressed  his  opinion  when  referring  to  more 
public  topics. 


142  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Of  the  House  of  Commons  in  1697  he  writes  : 

The  House  of  Commons  are  commonly  a  company  of  irreligioiis  wretches 
who  cares  not  what  they  do  nor  what  becomes  of  the  Church  and  religious 
things  if  they  can  but  get  their  hawkes,  hornids  aud  whores  and  the  sacred 
possessions  of  the  Church.  It  is  plainly  visible  that  the  nation  would  be 
happier  if  there  was  no  House  of  Commons  but  only  a  House  of  Lords.  .  .  . 

The  diary,  together  with  a  memoir  of  the  family,  was  pubUshed 
by  the  Surtees  Society  in  1870. 


TIMOTHY  BURRELL 

THE  small  account  book  or  diary  of  Timothy  Burrell, 
covering  the  years  1686  to  1717,  is  noteworthy  because 
of  the  little  drawings  with  which  he  illustrates  some  of 
the  entries.  Burrell  was  born  in  1643.  He  was  educated  at 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  and  was  called  to  the  Bar.  He 
retired  from  practice  and  lived  at  Ockenden,  in  Sussex,  where  he 
died  in  1717. 

Although  for  the  most  part  the  diary  consists  mainly  of  a  record 
of  payments  for  pro^dsions,  wages,  charities,  funeral  charges,  ' 
and  taxes,  his  personality  peeps  out  here  and  there  in  comments 
and  in  the  tags  of  Latin  and  Greek  from  Virgil,  Seneca,  Homer, 
etc.,  which  he  inserts  from  time  to  time.  But  the  little  pictures, 
which  are  well  drawn,  are  more  especially  characteristic  and 
amusing.  For  instance,  if  he  buys  "  a  charriott  "  he  draws  a 
picture  of  it  with  the  four  wheels  very  far  from  the  body ;  if  he 
pays  wages  for  mowing  and  haymaking  he  draws  a  rake  and  a 
hayfork ;  when  he  buys  hops  he  draws  a  sack ;  when  he  pur- 
chases hats  "  for  my  fellows'  liveries  "  he  depicts  two  little 
high-crowned,  broad-brimmed  hats  with  large  feathers ;  there 
is  a  drawing,  too,  of  the  "  pales  by  the  orchard  pond  "  for  which 
he  paid  a  man  lOd.  per  rod,  "  which  was  a  httle  too  much  for  he; 
worked  two  days  but  gently,"  the  repair  of  his  fowling-piece  or 
his  wheelbarrow  is  illustrated,  also  the  church  to  wMch  he  gave, 
money  for  certain  repairs ;  when  he  pays  May  Slater  her  wagesi 
he  gives  a  little  sketch  of  her,  when  his  daughter  begins  to  dancei 
he  draws  a  guitar,  and  when  he  gives  her  "  scarlet  stockings  " 
and  "  pink  scarlet  stockings  "  a  small  stockinged  leg  appears 
next  the  entry ;  coats,  horses,  carts,  brooms,  cows,  mugs,  fish, 
bees,  also  appear  frequently ;   the  window-tax  is  represented  by 


TIMOTHY  BURRELL  143 

a  small  window ;  the  fattening  of  hogs  is  always  illustrated,  in 
fact  a  fortnight  before  he  died  at  the  age  of  75  there  is  still  a  rough 
attempt  to  draw  a  hog.  The  pictures  perhaps  helped  him  to 
turn  up  particular  entries  easity.  On  one  occasion  his  illustration 
seems  to  convey  more  meaning  than  can  be  gathered  from  the 
text. 

Sep.  14.  Goldsmith  departed  my  service  by  consent  this  day  on  Oct.  24, 
he  repented  and  returned  half  starved. 

This  is  illustrated  on  one  side  by  a  long  churchwarden  pipe 
walking  away  on  two  little  legs,  and  the  other  side  two  pipes 
joined  together.  Perhaps  Goldsmith  returned  with  a  wife.  On 
the  front  page  of  the  diary  he  gives  a  sketch  of  his  house  with 
the  fields  round  it. 

The  accounts  themselves  are  of  no  special  interest.  But  some- 
times the  entry  contains  a  comment,  as,  for  instance  : 

Paid  John  Coachman  for  a  whip  to  spoil  my  horses  l/6d. 

Ap.  7.  bought  a  cheese  weighing  18  lbs  for  2Jd  the  lb.  It  was  all  eaten 
in  the  kitchen  by  the  18th. 

His  daughter's  birth  is  recorded  by  a  Latin  verse,  a  hne  from 
Lucian  in  Greek  and  the  picture  of  a  tree.  He  loses  his  wife 
on  the  same  day,  but  we  only  get  the  record  of  the  funeral. 

Burrell  was  evidently  very  well  off  and  was  generous  in  his 
charities,  giving  on  one  occasion  a  good  deal  to  the  poor  "  as  long 
as  the  dearth  of  provisions  continues."  One  of  the  features  of 
the  diary  is  the  enormous  list  every  year  of  the  presents  he  received 
at  Christmas,  amounting  in  1711  to  seventy,  but  falhng  off  very 
much  towards  the  end.  All  his  neighbours,  rich  and  poor,  seem 
to  have  presented  him  with  something.  The  gifts  include  geese, 
lobsters,  oranges,  venison,  claret,  oysters,  capons,  woodcock, 
pigs,  butter,  "  a  bottle  of  usquebagh,"  and  in  1700,  for  the  first 
time,  tea.  On  one  occasion  a  map  is  given  and  "  a  silver  tepot 
and  porridge  spoon  "  for  his  daughter. 

After  1700  the  entries  are  frequently  in  Latin  and  become 
more  personal.     The  translation  of  one  or  two  may  be  given : 

Sep.  1702.  My  sister  was  impertinent  to  me,  but  I  kept  my  temper  pretty 
well. 

My  sister  quarrelled  with  me  and  was  insolent  to  me  and  I  was  somewhat, 
not  to  say  too  much,  irritated  with  her  ;  the  consequence  was  that  for  two 
days  my  stomach  was  at  intervals  seriously  affected.  I  took  Tipping's  mix- 
ture and  doses  of  hiera  picra. 


144  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  was  rather  too  impatient  with  my  servant  for  having  put  too  much  salt 
in  my  broth. 

And  medical  details  with  regard  to  his  health  became  more 
frequent  (also  in  Latin) : 

Yesterday  having  wetted  my  feet  by  walking  out  in  the  dew  and  having 
eaten  a  small  piece  of  new  cheese,  I  have  been  to-day  tortured  with  flatulent 
spasms.  By  taking  two  doses  of  hiera  picra  the  pains  in  my  stomach  abated. 
Thanks  to  the  great  God  for  this  his  mercy  towards  me. 

In  1710  there  is  a  very  carefully  drawn  hand  pointing  to  certain 
dates  on  which  he  took  special  medicines. 

Every  Christmas  he  entertains  largely,  gives  a  list  of  his  guest 
and  a  bill  of  fare.  Thirty  or  more  of  his  friends  often  sat  down 
to  this  repast. 

The  immensely  long  bills  of  fare  show  heavy  meals  in  which 
"  plumm  pottage  "  figures  very  prominently. 

In  his  old  age  we  can  notice  a  general  decline  of  good  cheer 
and  happiness.  His  last  Christmas  dinner  is  in  1713.  He  only 
receives  seven  presents  in  1715,  and  in  July  of  that  year  he  writes  : 

I  gave  over  housekeeping  and  my  son  in  law  Trevor  began  to  keep  house 
the  day  and  year  above  written. 

After  this  there  are  very  few  entries.  The  son-in-law's  house- 
keeping does  not  seem  to  have  been  a  happy  arrangement,  and 
Burrell  loses  his  daughter. 

In  spite  of  the  brevity  and  baldness  of  the  entries  in  this  diary 
we  get  the  outline  sketch  of  a  very  pleasant,  generous,  hospitable, 
and  cultivated  old  gentleman. 

The  manuscript,  in  the  possession  of  a  member  of  the  family, 
was  edited  by  R.  W.  Blencowe  and  reproduced  in  the  Sussex 
Archaeological  Collections  in  1850.  ^ 


BISHOP  CARTWRIGHT 

THOMAS  CARTWRIGHT  was  born  in  1634,  in  Northamp- 
ton. His  parents  were  Presbyterians,  and  he  was  sent 
to  Oxford  for  his  education.  After  holding  various 
livings  he  came  into  high  court  favour  after  the  Restoration, 
was  made  Dean  of  Ripon  in  1675,  and  in  1686  he  was  given  the 
see  of  Chester,  keeping  at  the  same  time  the  vicarage  of  Barking 
and  the  rectory  of  Wigan,  in  Lancashire.  Desiring  translation 
to  a  better  bishopric  he  kept  in  close  touch  with  James  II,  who 


BISHOP   CARTWRIGHT  145 

made  him  an  Ecclesiastical  Commissioner  and  appointed  him  one 
of  the  three  delegates  to  go  to  Oxford  and  determine  the  affairs 
of  Magdalen  College,  where  a  scandal  had  arisen  owing  to  the 
refusal  of  the  Fellows  to  accept  a  President  nominated  by  the 
King.  Cartwright  was  a  good  preacher,  but  his  devotion  to 
James  and  liis  favour  to  Roman  Cathohcs  brought  liim  into  dis- 
repute. 

On  the  arrival  of  Wilham  III  Cartwright  fled  to  France,  where 
he  remained  with  James.  He  followed  his  master  to  Ireland, 
and  died  in  Dubhn  in  1689. 

His  diary  for  the  years  1686-7,  written  carelessly  but  regularly 
in  a  small  octavo  volume  bound  in  black  leather,  was  discovered 
early  in  the  nineteenth  century  in  a  bookseller's  shop  in  North- 
ampton. 

Unfortunately  the  diary  is  little  more  than  a  memorandum 
book  giving  hsts  of  the  people  who  dined  with  him  and  to  whom 
he  wrote  letters,  hsts  of  the  clergy  he  ordained,  and  records  of 
services  and  confirmations.  His  opinions  and  ambitions  emerge 
here  and  there  even  in  these  few  pages.  We  see  how  closely  he  was 
in  attendance  on  the  Kjng  by  his  very  frequent  presence  at  the 
IQng's  levee  (not  the  function  of  to-day,  but  the  early  morning 
conference  with  the  sovereign,  wliich  took  place  on  one  occasion 
as  early  as  six  o'clock). 

I  was  at  the  King's  levee  and  kissed  hands  and  had  leave  to  retrn-n  into  the 
North  with  a  gracious  promise  that  he  would  never  forget  me  nor  my  services 
and  that  I  should  find  his  favour  in  all  places  and  upon  aU  occasions. 

(The  King)  declared  that  such  men  as  myself  who  had  always  stuck  to  him, 
,  should  never  want  his  favour  ;   and  that  he  would  take  an  effectual  com-se  to 
make  others  weary  of  their  obstinacy.     And  I  advised  him  to  begin  with  his 
own  household  which  he  promised  to  do. 

Kissed  the  Queen's  hand  in  her  bed  chamber  where  she  told  me  she  nor  the 
Kmg  would  never  forget  my  service  to  them  before  they  were  so  nor  should 
I  ever  want  a  friend  so  long  as  she  lived. 

I  was  at  the  King's  levee  who  went  a  hunting. 

I  was  at  His  Majesty's  levee  from  whence  I  attended  him  into  the  choir 
where  he  healed  350  persons. 

I  was  at  his  Majesty's  levee.  .  .  .  After  that  he  had  mass  in  the  presence 
chamber  where  he  eat.  From  thence  I  attended  him  into  the  choir  where  he 
healed  450  people. 

We  find  one  occasion  on  which  he  gives  actual  assistance  to 
Roman  Catholics. 

10 


146  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

I  sent  for  Captain  Fielding  the  Recorder  and  others,  to  find  out  a  con- 
venient place  by  his  Majesty's  command  in  the  castle  or  elsewhere  for  the 
Roman  Catholic  devotions. 

He  has  Roman  Catholic  priests  to  dine  with  him  as  well  as 
prominent  Catholic  gentry. 

To  us  to-day  the  Bishop  seems  in  this  connection  only  to  have 
been  broad-minded,  but  bearing  in  mind  the  acute  political 
nature  of  these  religious  differences  in  James  II's  reign,  we  can 
see  that  he  was  open  to  grave  suspicions. 

The  diary  covers  the  period  of  Cart^Tight's  induction  and 
enthronement  at  Chester,  and  the  ceremonies  are  fully  described. 
On  his  way  to  Chester  he  is  entertained  at  Bolton  by  the  Mar- 
quess of  Winchester. 

I  was  received  by  the  noble  Marquess  with  aU  kindness  imaginable  at 
dinners  from  one  at  noon  tiU  one  in  the  morning. 

It  appears  that  a  twelve  hours'  dinner  was  a  common  occur- 
rence at  Bolton  in  these  days.  This  mode  of  living  is  said  to  have 
been  affected  by  Lord  Winchester  in  order  that  he  might  be 
thought  unfit  for  public  affairs  at  a  time  when  things  were  going 
in  a  manner  of  which  he  did  not  approve. 

The  Bishop  has  a  serious  dispute  with  the  cathedral  precentor. 

I  admonished  Mr.  Ottway  the  precentor  of  his  neglecting  services  and 
anthems  and  his  teaching  of  the  quire  ;  and  he  refused  to  amend  and  be  the 
packhorse  as  he  called  it  to  the  quire  and  choristers.  I  told  him  I  should 
take  care  to  provide  a  better  in  his  room  and  one  that  wovild  attend  God's 
service  better  and  pay  more  respect  to  his  superiors  in  behaving  himself  very 
insolently  towards  the  subdean  at  that  very  time. 

We  do  not  learn  if  Mr.  Ottway  mended  his  ways.  Some  of 
the  Bishop's  congregation  also  come  in  for  his  admonitions. 

I  preached  in  the  Cathedral  at  Chester  being  the  first  Simday  in  Lent  to 
the  greatest  congregation  that  ever  I  saw  a  sermon  of  Repentance.  God 
give  a  blessing  to  it.  ...  I  rebuked  as  they  deserved  Mrs.  Brown,  Mrs. 
Crutchley,  Mrs.  Eaton  and  her  sister  for  talking  and  laughing  in  the  Chvirch  ; 
and  they  accused  Mr.  Hudleston  for  being  as  guilty  as  themselves. 

The  last  week  of  the  record  is  taken  up  with  a  very  full  note 
of  the  proceedings  at  Magdalen  College,  where  Dr.  Hough  had 
been  installed  as  President  by  the  Fellows. 

The  entries  in  the  diary  are  very  regular  almost  daily,  and 
many  of  them  are  just  memoranda  of  trivial  events. 

Among  the  many  people  with  whom  he  becomes  acquainted 
is  Pepys.     He  notes  that  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  "  promised  to 


JOHN   MORE  147 

bring  me  acquainted  with  Mr.  Peepes,"  and  a  few  days  later 
he  had  a  conversation  with  him.  But  we  get  no  comment  or 
description. 

Very  httle  can  be  gathered  about  his  family.  He  mentions 
his  wife,  one  son  who  was  a  clergyman,  and  another  whom  he 
refers  to  as  "  my  ungracious  son  Richard,"  who  was  studying 
medicine. 

The  brief  diary,  which  in  all  probability  is  only  a  fragment 
of  a  larger  journal,  was  first  printed  from  the  original  MS.  by 
the  Camden  Society  in  1843. 


JOHN  MORE 

/ILL  we  know  of  John  More  is  that  he  was  born  in   1654, 
/"^^   and  after  going  to  Oxford  took  Deacon's  orders  in  1678, 
X    -^  was  ordained  as  Priest  in  1679,  and  became  Rector  of 
Earls  Croom. 

In  1699  he  went  over  to  the  Baptists  and  was  formally  bap- 
tised by  Ehzen  Hathway.  The  extracts  from  his  diary  cover 
the  period  from  1694  to  1696  and  1697-8  to  1700,  and  tell  us 
something  of  his  rupture  with  the  Church.  He  appears  to  have 
been  a  man  of  a  somewhat  exalte  disposition,  not  to  say  eccentric. 
We  can  trace  by  a  few  entries,  not  always  very  explicit,  his  deser- 
tion from  the  Church. 

My  aunt  expostulated  briskly  with  me  about  communion  with  dissenters 
and  the  rumour  of  my  going  off  to  them. 

I  had  not  lain  long  awake  when  I  heard  one  knock  at  the  door  I  fovmd  Phil 
Battard  of  Aston.  He  told  me  he  came  to  have  me  along  to  the  Bishop  as 
from  the  Lord  he  hoped.  I  rose  and  he  told  me  he  was  for  preaching  all  and 
giving  to  the  poor  and  following  Christ  and  going  to  Jerusalem.  I  suspected 
him  discomposed.  He  said  the  old  cap  wing  in  my  dream  was  the  Bishop  that 
their  parson  was  dead  and  miserably  rotten  he  was  a  great  drinker— seemed 
disorderly  even  to  phrenzy. 

He  records  later  that  his  "  service  "  is  laid  aside. 

I  rested  from  my  ordinary  labours  by  order  of  the  Bishop  after  I  had  just 
finished  a  little  thing  on  the  Sabbath  [this  was  printed]. 

•  This  day  I  am  denied  admittance  at  Norton  Church. 

This  morning  it  came  into  my  thoughts  to  be  baptised  at  Pirton  Pool  where 
I  had  misspent  my  time  and  lived  not  so  purely  as  becomes  a  Christian  and  a 
Minister  of  the  Gospel. 


148  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

This  evening  I  heard  they  had  a  design  of  putting  me  out  of  the  Parsonage 
house  for  preaching  in  a  private  house. 

Finally  he  is  baptised,  and  while  in  Gloucester  he  sees  "  the 
heavens  opened  extremely." 

He  is  of  a  poetic  nature,  as  we  see  from  the  following  entries : 

Mem  :  to  write  a  poem  to  Mr.  Dryden  to  excite  him  to  Pious  Poetry  instead 
of  lewd  amorous  things. 

A  merry  swallow  singing  after  svmset  when  they  could  scarce  be  seen  on  the 
pool  before  my  door,  the  wind  being  high  and  cold. 

This  evening  I  heard  the  nightingale  after  I  had  been  praying  at  John 

Westbxiry's. 

Composed  above  6  score  verses  in  all  to-day  on  the  presmned  reasons  of  the 
change  of  season. 

After  some  meditation  of  the  Lords  withdrawing  me  from  all  Society  for 
a  nearer  union  and  communion  with  Himself  I  took  my  violin  and  being 
refreshed  with  the  harmony  ...  in  singing  psalms  these  words  came  into  my 
mind. 

Lord  what  a  harmony's  iu  strings 

and  none  in  living  human  things 

Look  on  the  jarring  world  once  more  J 

Bring  all  in  order  as  before  ^ 

Man's  sins  untuned  the  whole  creation 

O  send  another  Reformation. 

More  was  unconventional  and  had  a  sublime  disregard  for 
public   opinion. 

I  went  through  Worcester  with  a  handkerchief  on  my  head  and  also  through 
the  country  resolving  never  to  wear  a  wig  more  that  I  might  not  make  my 
brother  to  offend. 

He  takes  to  wearing  a  white  cap. 

A  neighbour  objecting  against  my  white  cap  I  said  the  mountains  and  hills 
wear  white  caps,  I  am  in  the  mode. 

On  the  subject  of  his  health  he  says  on  one  occasion  :  ^ 

I  had  stomach  pains  as  usual  before  illuminations.  " 

The  journal  is  only  a  fragment,  but  it  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  an 
odd  man.  The  manuscript  transcript  of  the  original  is  in  the 
British  Museum. 


CELIA   FIENNES 

IN  the  preface  to  her  diary  Celia  Fiennes,  in  expectation  that 
it  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  her  relations,  states  the  motive 
which  led  her  to  make  careful  notes  of  all  that  she  saw  on  hef 
many  journeys  on  horseback  about  the  country  in  the  reigns  of 


CELIA   FIENNES  149 

William  and  Mary  and  Anne.  She  recommends  travel  in  Eng- 
land so  that  people  may  get  a  better  idea  of  their  own  country, 
which  will  "  cure  the  evil  itch  of  overvaluing  foreign  parts."  She 
does  not  write  for  publication,  and  is  very  modest  with  regard 
to  her  literary  capacity.     She  says  : 

As  most  I  converse  with  knows  both  the  freedom  and  Easyness  I  speak  and 
write  as  well  as  my  defect  in  all,  so  they  will  not  expect  exactness  or  politeness 
in  this  book,  tho'  such  Embellishments  might  have  adorned  the  descriptions 
and  suited  the  nicer  taste. 

The  diary  is  peculiar  ;  it  is  not  divided  up  into  days  with  dates. 
In  fact,  no  date  is  mentioned  in  it  except  the  years  1695  and 
1697.  But  the  notes  she  makes  are  quite  obviously  written  on 
the  day  and  on  the  spot,  except  perhaps  the  descriptions  of 
London  and  the  Lord  Mayor's  Show. 

All  we  know  of  Celia  Fiennes  is  that  she  was  a  daughter  of 
Colonel  Nathaniel  Fiennes,  a  Parhamentarian  officer,  and  a  sister 
of  the  3rd  Viscount  Saye  and  Sele.  We  can  tell  by  the  diary 
that  she  was  an  indefatigable  traveller,  a  very  observant  woman 
and  quite  an  exceptional  product  of  her  times.  The  diary  is  a 
sort  of  guide-book.  She  gives  in  minute  detail  descriptions  of 
towns,  palaces,  country  houses  and  gardens,  as  well  as  the  in- 
dustries of  the  places  she  passes  through.  Here  and  there, 
however,  we  can  gather  something  of  her  opinions,  more  especially 
on  the  subject  of  religion.  She  makes  several  disparaging  re- 
marks about  Papists,  and  Quakers  do  not  meet  with  her  approval. 

Where  4  men  and  2  women  spoke  one,  after  another  had  done,  but  it  seem'd 
such  a  Confusion  and  so  incoherent  that  it  very  much  moved  my  compassion 
and  pitty  to  see  their  delusion  and  Ignorance  and  no  less  Excited  my  thank- 
fulness for  the  Grace  of  God  that  upheld  others  from  such  Errors. 

The  sight  of  a  lighthouse  on  a  rock  near  Plymouth  calls  forth 
the  followmg  remarks  : 

From  this  you  have  a  Good  reflection  on  ye  great  Care  and  provision  ye 
wise  God  makes  for  all  persons  and  things  in  his  Creation,  that  there  should 
be  in  some  places  where  there  is  any  difficulty  rocks  Even  in  the  midst  of  ye 
deep  which  can  be  made  use  of  for  a  Constant  Guide  and  mark  for  the  passen- 
gers on  their  voyages,  but  the  Earth  is  full  of  ye  goodness  of  ye  Lord  and  so 
is  this  Great  Sea  wherein  are  innumerable  beings  created  and  preserved  by  the 
same  almighty  hand  whose  is  the  Earth  and  all  things  there  in  he  is  Lord  of 
aU. 

At  Truro  she  has  a  conversation  with  "  an  ordinary  plain 
woman,"  and  she  is  "  edifyed  by  her  conversation  and  ye  pitch 
of  soul  resignation  to  ye  will  of  God."     But  these  interludes  on 


150  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

religion  are  rare.  She  of  course  notes'  the  weather,  the  distances 
covered  and  the  state  of  the  roads,  which  are  sometimes  very- 
heavy. 

From  hence  to  Leister  which  they  Call  but  13  miles  but  ye  longest  13  I 
ever  went  and  ye  most  tiresome  being  full  of  sloughs  y*  I  was  near  11  hours 
going  but  25  mile — a  footman  Could  have  gone  much  faster  than  I  could  Ride. 

The  stones  were  so  slippery  Crossing  the  channels  that  my  horse  was  quite 
down  on  his  nose  but  did  at  length  recover  himself  and  so  I  was  not  thrown 
ofi  or  injured  which  I  desire  to  bless  God  for  as  for  the  many  preservations  I 
mett  with. 

Before  I  Came  to  Alsford  forceing  my  horse  out  of  the  hollow  way  his 
f eete  failed  and  he  Could  noe  wayes  recover  himself  and  soe  I  was  shott 
off  his  neck  upon  the  Bank  but  noe  harm  I  bless  God  and  as  soone  as  he 
Could  role  himself  up  stood  stock  still  by  me  which  I  Looked  on  as  a 
Great  mercy — indeed  mercy  and  truth  all  wayes  have  attended  me.  J 

In  one  summer  she  covers  a  distance  of  1551  miles.  She  was 
not  always  alone.  On  one  occasion  she  mentions  "  my  sister, 
self  and  maid,"  on  another  her  mother,  and  on  returning  to 
London  after  an  expedition  of  635  miles  she  talks  of  "  all  our 
Company." 

But  the  value  of  Celia  Fiennes'  diary  rests  in  the  picture  it 
gives  of  country  houses,  gardens,  and  the  to"9^Tis,  fashionable 
watering-places,  and  villages  of  England  at  the  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  for  there  is  very  little  hterature  of  this  de- 
cription  belonging  to  that  period.  Her  language  is  by  no  means 
florid.  Indeed,  her  vocabulary  is  somewhat  limited.  An  ex- 
pression of  praise  she  uses  over  and  over  again  in  connection 
with  cathedrals,  houses,  gardens,  etc.,  is  that  they  are  "  neat." 
But  in  a  simple  way  she  gives  quite  effectively  little  pictures  of 
what  she  sees,  and  uses  many  quaint  but  happy  expressions,  as, 
for  instance,  when  she  says  of  the  spire  of  Sahsbury  Cathedral : 

it  appears  to  us  below  as  sharpe  as  a  Dagger,  Yet  in  the  compass  on  the  top 
as  bigg  as  a  cart  wheele. 

One  or  two  of  her  descriptions  may  be  quoted : 

I  went  on  the  side  of  a  liigh  hill  below  which  the  river  Trent  rann  and  turned 
its  silver  stream  forward  and  backward  into  S.S.  which  looked  very  pleasant 
Circling  about  ye  fine  meadows  in  their  flourishing  tyme  bedecked  with  hay 
almost  Ripe  and  flowers. 

The  Duke  of  Bedford's  garden. 

In  the  square  just  by  the  dineing  roome  window  all  sorts  of  pots  of  flowers 
and  Curious  greens,  fine  orange,  Cittron  and  Lemon  trees  and  mirtles,  striped 
flfilleroy  and  ye  fine  aloes  plant.     On  the  side  of  this  you  pass  under  an  arch 


CELIA  FIENNES  151 

into  a  Cherry  garden  in  the  midst  of  which  stands  a  figure  of  stone  resembUng 
an  old  weeder  woman  used  in  the  garden  and  my  Lord  would  have  her  Effigie 
which  is  done  so  like  and  her  Qothes  so  well  that  at  first  I  took  it  to  be  a  Real 
Living  body. 

Lord  Chesterfield's  house. 

Ye  house  has  a  visto  quite  thro'  by  a  glass  bellcony  door  into  ye  gardens  and 
so  to  ye  park  beyond  on  that  side.  Ye  front  have  something  surprising  in 
it ;  its  all  of  free  stone  which  is  dipt  in  oyle  that  adds  a  varnish  to  its  Lustre 
as  well  as  security  to  its  foundations.  Ye  Roofe  is  not  flatt  as  our  Modern 
buildings  yet  garrit  windows  Come  out  on  ye  tileing  which  is  all  flatt.  None 
of  ye  windows  are  sashes  which  in  my  opinion  is  ye  only  thing  it  wants  to 
render  it  a  Compleate  building. 

When  she  visits  watering-places  she  bathes  or  samples  the 
waters.  At  Harrogate,  "  setting  aside  ye  papist  ffancyes  of  it," 
she  finds  the  waters  after  she  had  bathed  in  them  "  Eased  a  great 
pain  I  used  to  have  in  my  head,"  and  at  Buxton  she  drinks  "  part 
of  a  cupful!  "  of  the  waters,  "  the  taste  is  not  unpleasant  but 
Rather  hke  Milk,  they  say  it  is  Diaretick," 

Cathedrals  are  described  at  great  length ;  most  of  them  are 
"  neat,"  but  Winchester  is  "to  be  admired  for  its  Largeness  not 
its  neatness  or  Curiosity."  She  notes  everything  as  she  passes 
along — local  customs,  local  industries,  prices,  architecture, 
antiquities.  Sometimes  she  stays  with  friends  or  relations,  but 
often  she  has  to  put  up  in  "  sorry  inns."  Here  is  one  of  her 
experiences  : 

Ye  Loft  as  they  called  it  which  was  over  the  other  roomes  was  sheltered 
but  with  a  hurdle  ;  here  I  was  fforced  to  take  up  my  abode  and  ye  Landlady 
brought  me  out  her  best  sheetes  which  served  to  secure  my  own  sheetes  from 
her  dirty  blankets  and  Indeed  I  had  her  fine  sheete  to  spread  over  ye  top  of 
the  Clothes  ;  but  noe  sleepe  Could  I  get  they  burning  twiS  and  their  Chimneys 
are  sort  of  fflews  or  open  tunnills  y*  ye  smoake  does  annoy  the  roomes. 

Meals  are  often  mentioned: 

We  Eate  very  good  Codfish  and  Salmon  and  at  a  pretty  Cheape  rate. 

This  [Derby]  is  a  dear  place  for  Strangers  notwithstanding  ye  plentyfullneas 
of  all  provisions.  My  Dinner  cost  me  5s  and  8d  only  two  servant  men  with 
me  and  I  had  but  a  shoulder  of  mutton  and  bread  and  beer. 

[In  Devonshire.]  They  scald  their  creame  and  milk  in  most  parts  of  those 
Countrys  and  so  its  a  sort  of  Clouted  Creame  as  we  Call  it  with  a  Little  sugar 
and  so  put  on  ye  top  of  ye  apple  Pye.  I  was  much  pleased  with  my  supper 
though  not  with  the  Custome  of  the  Country  which  is  a  universall  smoaking 
both  men  women  and  children  have  all  their  pipes  of  tobacco  in  their  mouths 
and  soe  sit  round  the  fire  smoaking  which  was  not  delightfvdl  to  me  when  I 
went  down  to  talke  with  my  Landlady  for  information  of  any  matter  and 
Customs  amongst  them. 


152  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

To  conclude,  we  will  take  a  typical  entry  of  a  day's  journey : 

Thence  I  went  to  Nantwich  5  long  miles.  Nantwich  is  a  pretty  large  town 
and  well  built ;  here  are  ye  salt  springs  of  which  they  make  salt  and  many 
salterns  which  were  a  boyling  ye  salt.  This  is  a  pretty  Rich  land  ;  you  must 
travel  on  a  Causey  ;  I  went  3  miles  on  a  Causey  through  much  wood.  Its 
from  Nantwich  to  Chester  town  14  long  miles  ye  wayes  being  deep  ;  its  much 
on  Enclosvires  and  I  passed  by  severall  large  pooles  of  waters,  but  what  I 
wondered  at  was  y*  tho'  this  shire  is  remarkable  for  a  greate  deale  of  greate 
Cheeses  and  Dairys  I  did  not  see  more  than  20  or  30  Cowes  in  a  troope  feeding, 
but  on  Enquiry  find  ye  Custome  of  ye  Coiintry  to  joyn  their  milking  together 
of  a  whole  Nallage  and  so  make  their  great  Cheeses. 

Celia  Fiennes  complains  in  her  preface  that  members  of  Parlia- 
ment are  often  "  ignorant  of  anything  but  the  name  of  the  place 
for  which  they  serve  in  Parliament,"  and  she  recommends  speci- 
ally her  own  sex  to  study  "  those  things  which  tends  to  Improve 
the  mind  and  makes  our  Lives  pleasant  and  comfortable." 

The  diary,  under  the  name  of  Through  Efigland  on  a  Side  Saddle 
in  the  Time  of  William  and  Mary,  was  not  published  till  1888. 


RUGGE  AND   LUTTRELL 

j4  LTHOUGH   referred   to   as   diaries,  the  records  of  Rugge 

/  \  and  Luttrell  can  better  be  described  as  annals.  They 
jL  JL  are  collections  of  extracts  taken  largely  from  contem- 
porary news  sheets  and  concern  only  the  public  events  of  the  day. 

Thomas  Rugge  (son  of  a  canon  of  Westminster)  covers  the 
period  from  1659  to  1672,  devoting  the  greater  part  of  his  record 
to  the  events  of  1661-1662.  He  calls  it  "  Mercurius  Politicus 
Redi\avus."  The  manuscript  is  in  the  British  Museum.  It  has 
been  useful  to  historians,  but  it  has  never  been  printed. 

Narcissus  Luttrell,  who  was  educated  at  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge,  was  a  collector  of  manuscripts  and  books.  He  lived 
in  Chelsea.     His  record  is  called : 

A  Brief  Historicall  Relation  of  State  affairs  from  Sep.  1678  to  April  1714. 

In  giving  excerpts  from  contemporary  newspapers  he  often 
confuses  the  date  of  the  issue  of  newspaper  with  the  date  of  the 
events  related.  These  annals  have  been  printed.  Luttrell, 
however,  also  kept  a  private  diary.  It  is  neatly  written  in  Eng- 
lish, but  in  Greek  characters  in  a  small  notebook.  The  entries 
are  brief  and  very  irregular.  He  writes  for  a  fortnight,  then 
there  are  several  blank  pages,  then  again  he  writes  for  a  few  days. 


RUGGE  AND   LUTTRELL  153 

sometimes  only  two  or  three  days,  sometimes  for  more  than  a 
week.  But  there  are  far  more  blank  pages  than  written  pages 
in  the  book,  which  was  begun  in  November,  1722,  the  last  entry 
being  made  in  1724.  The  diary  is  only  concerned  with  the  very 
brief  recital  of  quite  ordinary  events.  Only  one  sample  entry 
need  be  given  : 

_  Nov.  5.  Rose  this  morning  at  8-30  to  prayers  in  Chamber  then  down  and 
into  garden  dressed  after  and  breakfasted  about  10  and  being  gtmpowder 
treason  day  I  wovild  have  gone  to  Church  but  the  rain  hindered  me  so  did  odd 
things  at  home,  and  in  the  evening  I  went  not  out  to  dinner  after  2  and  dined 
after  3  so  unto  the  garden  and  had  a  tree  dug  up  did  business  aU  the  evening 
in  the  parlor  went  about  9  up  into  Chamber  after  12  so  to  prayers  and  to  bed 

^^  Each  entry  begins  "  Rose  this  morning,"  and  the  expression 
"  did  odd  things  "  is  very  frequent. 

I  did  odd  things  tiU  6  and  drunk  green  tea  after  with  son  I  eat  no  butter  so 
did  odd  matters  all  the  evening. 

The  curious  thing  is  that,  although  the  pages  are  not  divided 
up  for  days,  he  seems  to  leave  just  the  amount  of  space  sufficient 
for  the  long  periods  in  which  he  neglected  to  write.  Though 
meagre  and  quite  without  interest,  it  is  a  curious  production,  as 
one  does  not  quite  see  why  he  \\Tote  at  aU,  why  if  he  repeatedly 
failed  to  write  regularly  he  kept  on  beginning  again,  and  why 
Greek  characters  should  have  been  used  for  such  very  tri\ial  notes. 

The  following  diaries  in  ihis  century  may  also  be  briefly  noted  : 
William  Ayshcombe 

The  notebook  in  which  WilHam  Ayshcombe  made  a  few  entries 
between  1608  and  1633  could  be  regarded  merely  as  memoranda  of 
miscellaneous  incidents  connected  with  other  people,  were  it  not  for 
the  first  two  entries,  which  are  of  a  peculiarly  personal  character. 
These  entries  may  be  quoted  in  full  : 

1608.  I  was  much  importuned  to  marry  my  Lady  Garrarde's  daugliter 
of  Dorney  by  Windsor  Mrs.  Martha  Garrard,  a  fine  gentlewomen  truly.  I 
sawe  her  and  no  more. 

1609.  I  was  importuned  to  see  a  brave  spirited  gentlewomen  named  Mrs 
Kate  Howarde  beinge  one  of  the  two  daughters  and  heyres  of  the  Viscount 
Bmden's  brother.     I  saw  her  not  far  from  Bath  was  earnestly  sollicited  to 
proceede ;    bemg  halfe  afraid  of  the  greatness  of  her  spirit,  I  did  not.     Shee 
was  smce  more  worthily  bestowed  and  she  was  most  worthy  so  to  be. 

The  notebook,  which  was  discovered  at  Brymore,  where  John  Pym 
lived  at  one  time,  is  included  in  the  tenth  Report  of  the  Historical 
Manuscripts  Commission. 


154  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

The  Rev.  T,  Dugard 

This  diary  is  only  remarkable  on  account  of  its  form  and  appearance. 
The  book  measures  about  4  by  2|  inches.  The  writing  is  so  small 
that  a  page  contains  an  average  of  sixty-eight  lines,  sometimes  over 
seventy.  It  is  illegible  without  a  magnifying  glass,  nevertheless  the 
handwriting  is  exquisitely  neat.  The  whole  diary,  which  covers  a 
period  of  eleven  years  from  1632  to  1643,  is  written  in  abbreviated 
Latin.  The  entries  are  practically  daily  and  only  amount  to  two  or 
three  lines,  births,  deaths,  letters  written,  books  read,  and  subjects 
taught  are  noted.  "  InstUui  discip "  :  with  a  Bible  reference. 
"  Scripsi  ad  Patrem  "  or  some  one  else.  "  Legi  "  with  the  name  of 
the  book.  The  heading  at  the  beginning  is  in  cypher,  and  spare 
sheets  are  occupied  by  long  lists  of  births,  deaths,  preachers,  bailiffs, 
those  present  at  Assizes  and  his  correspondents.  The  minuteness 
and  neatness  is  kept  up  to  the  last  page.  This  alone,  apart  from  the 
matter,  suggests  peculiar  characteristics  in  the  author. 

The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museiun,  Add.  MS.  23146. 

John  Manners,  Earl  of  Rutland 

This  is  a  brief  diary  kept  by  the  Earl  of  Rutland  while  he  was  in 
attendance  on  Charles  I  in  1639  between  March  30  and  the  pacification 
of  Berwick.  Its  title,  "  a  journall  of  private  observacions  for  my- 
selfe,"  raises  a  hope  that  it  may  contain  some  indiscretions  or  dis- 
closures. Unfortunately  it  is  a  purely  official  accovmt  of  the  Kings 
movements,  councils,  advances  of  troops  and  journeys  to  York, 
Durham,  Newcastle,  etc.  Manners  was  a  moderate  Parliamentarian, 
and  indulges  in  no  particular  expressions  of  admiration  for  the  King. 
He  gives  an  account  of  a  Council  at  York  at  which  Lord  Say  and  Lord 
Brooke  hesitated  to  take  the  new  oath  of  allegiance  and  he  notes  one 
conversation  with  the  King. 

The  document  is  only  a  little  bit  of  history  from  a  contemporary 
witness  ;  it  is  included  in  the  Historical  Manuscripts  Commission's 
volumes. 

Jacob  Bee 

The  diary  of  Jacob  Bee,  who  was  a  tradesman  of  Durham,  extends 
from  September  5,  1681,  to  February  27,  1706.  With  the  exception 
of  the  description  of  a  murder,  no  entry  exceeds  four  or  five  lines. 
The  great  majority  of  days  contain  bare  one-line  records  of  deaths, 
marriages,  accidents,  weather  phenomena,  and  election  results.  One 
or  two  of  the  rather  fuller  entries  may  be  given  : 

1683.  Sep.  18.  Seven  bouchers  should  have  played  at  football  with 
seven  glovers,  being  Tuesday,  this  year  above,  and  my  man  Christopher 
went  without  leave  to  play. 

1684.  4.  Nov.  A  foot  race  was  rtinn  betwixt  Fairebeames  a  butcher 
and  a  countrey  man  called  John  Upton  and  ninn  upon  Eliott-moore,  the 
hardest  rim  that  ever  any  did  see.     The  countrey  man  were  upon  hard  termes 


RICHARD   STAPLEY—JOHN  BUFTON  155 

being  runn  so  nerely  that  scarce  any  could  judge,  when  they  had  but  one 
hundred  yards  to  runn  whether  should  have  it. 

1684/5.  Jan.  17.  John  Borrow  departed  this  life  and  'twas  reported 
that  he  see  a  coach  drawn  by  six  swine,  all  black,  and  a  black  man  satt  upon 
the  cotch  box.  He  fell  sick  upon't  and  dyed  and  of  his  death  severall  appara- 
tions  appeared  after. 

This  diary  is  unfortunately  too  scrappy  for  any  deductions  to  be 
made  from  it.     It  is  included  in  the  Surtees  Society's  collections. 
Richard  Stapley 

The  diary  of  Richard  Stapley,  of  Hickstead  Place,  in  Sussex,  is 
little  more  than  the  account  book  kept  between  1682  and  1710.  He 
not  only  notes  the  witnesses  of  his  money  transactions,  but  also  where 
they  took  place,  whether  at  the  horseblock  or  in  the  open  fields,  in  the 
kitchen,  hall  or  parlour,  and  even  at  which  table  the  payment  was  made. 

Paid  Mr.  Steward  for  Dr.  Comber's  paraphrase  on  ye  Common  Prayer 
20s  and  6d  for  carriage.  I  paid  it  at  ye  end  of  ye  kitchen  table  next  ye  cham- 
ber stairs  door  and  nobody  in  ye  room  but  he  and  I.  No  it  was  ye  end  of  ye 
table  next  ye  parlour. 

Paid  Dec.  29  to  Mr.  John  Whitpaine  for  writing  a  copy  of  an  exemplification 
of  my  father's  will  the  sum  of  20s  at  John  Ffields  house,  called  the  Boyal 
Oak  in  Hurst  town.  There  was  in  ye  room  called  ye  Beard's-end  room  alias 
ye  Hall  in  ye  which  I  paid  him  Thomas  Ffloud  etc  etc. 

Besides  purchases,  taxes,  loans  and  presents  he  notes  the  weather  and 
details  with  regard  to  the  harvest.  The  only  incident  described  is 
the  catching  and  eating  of  an  enormous  trout  which  supplied  supper 
for  six  people. 

The  Sussex  Archaeological  Society  published  the  diary  in  1849. 

_JOHN   BUFTON 

In  the  last  decade  of  the  seventeenth  century  John  Bufton,  of 
Coggeshall,  in  Essex,  made  entries  on  two  old  almanacks  of  matters 
of  local  interest  such  as  burials,  funeral  accounts,  church  repairs,  the 
installation  of  bells,  the  setting  up  of  a  ducking  stool  in  the  church^ 
pond,  the  earthquake  in  1692,  and  a  brief  mention  of  public  events. 
The  following  entries  with  regard  to  a  witch  are  the  only  ones  of  any 
special  interest  : 

July  13.  1699.  The  widow  Comon  was  put  into  the  river  to  see  if  she 
would  sink  because  she  was  suspected  to  be  a  witch  and  she  did  not  sink 
but  swim. 

July  19.     She  was  tryed  again  and  then  she  swam  again  and  did  not  sink. 
July  24.     The  widow  Comon  was  tryed  a  third  time  by  putting  her  into 
the  river  and  she  swam  and  did  not  sink. 

Dec.  27.     The  widow  Comon  that  was  co\mted  a  witch  was  buried. 

Witches  were  condenmed  to  death  and  burned  at  a  much  later  date 
than  this. 

There  is  nothing  personal  in  Bufton's  records.  They  are  quoted 
fully  in  the  Essex  Archaeological  Society's  Transactions,  vol.  1. 


EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY 

JOHN  WESLEY 


T 


^HERE  is  no  printed  English  diary  which  in  point  of 
view  of  length  and  regularity  can  surpass  the  diaries 
_  and  journals  kept  by  John  Wesley.  He  lived  till  he  was 
88  (1703-1791),  and  he  kent  a  diary  for  practically  66  years  J 
(1725-1791).  The  daily,  sometimes  hourly,  memoranda  are  I 
called  his  diaries  ;  the  enlarged,  fuller  and  more  than  once  trans-  ^ 
cribed  versions  his  Journal.  The  diaries  began  when  he  was  at  '\ 
Oxford ;  only  extracts  from  these  earlier  ones  are  available,  ^ 
and  many  volumes,  specially  in  the  later  years,  are  lost.  The 
printed  and  published  Journal  began  in  1735,  and  is  complete  | 
up  to  24  October,  1790 ;  the  last  volume  of  the  diaries  goes 
on  up  to  24  February,  1791,  with  daily  memoranda.  He  died 
on  March  2.  The  standard  edition  of  the  Journal  extends  to 
eight  large  volumes.  As  the  personal  record  of  a  life  it  is,  there-  J 
fore,  the  most  voluminous  that  has  been  published.  As  a  diary,  ' 
although  ke^jt  with  scrupulous  regularity  and  recording  as  it  i 
does  all  his  public  activities  and  many  of  his  thoughts,  it  cer- 1 
tainly  cannot  be  ranked  among  the  best.  Nevertheless,  Wesley 
did  not  write  for  publication,  nor  did  he  write  because  he  thought 
his  career  of  importance.  He  began  long  before  he  had  any" 
notion  of  the  great  stir  he  was  going  to  make.  He  wrote,  we"' 
are  told,  "  for  the  clearing  of  his  own  mind  that  he  might  see  his 
life  in  black  and  white  and  so  be  in  a  position  to  judge  accurately 
as  to  his  OAvn  motives,  attainments,  doings,  and  failures."^  He 
also  rewrote  sections  of  the  Journal  for  his  mother,  other  members 
of  his  family  and  friends.  It  is  "  the  most  amazing  record  of 
human  exertion  ever  penned  or  endured,"  ^  as  Mr.  Birrell  says, 
and  he  goes  on  to  picture  the  exhausting  and  almost  unbearable 
strain  on  a  political  candidate  of  the  three  weeks  of  a  contested 

^  Standard  Edition  of  Wesley's  Journal,  Vol.  1. 
^  Appreciation  in  Abridged  Edition. 

156 


JOHN  WESLEY  157 

election,  concluding :  "  Well,  John  Wesley  contested  the  three 
kingdoms  in  the  cause  of  Christ  during  a  campaign  which  lasted 
forty  years."  And  indeed  that  is  what  strikes  one  most  in  trying 
to  read  through  the  thousands  of  pages— not  the  moral  excellence 
of  the  austere  rehgious  organizer,  but  the  astounding  physical 
strength  and  nervous  energy  of  the  man.  From  such  an  abnormal 
giant  we  must  expect  a  certain  insensitiveness.  Just  as  one  who 
enjoys  perfect  health  finds  it  difficult  to  sympathise  with  the 
ailments  of  others  who  are  not  so  fortunate,  so  also  he  whose 
armour  of  self-confident  righteousness  is  complete  is  apt  to  be 
intolerant  of  the  failures  of  Ms  ill-equipped  fellows.  Wesley  was 
practically  always  well  in  health,  and  if  he  was  sympathetic  to 
sinners  it  was  because  they  afforded  him  an  opportunity  to  save 
them.  Wesley  kept  his  resolutions,  and  one  of  them  was  never 
to  laugh,  "  no,  not  for  a  moment." 

The  pedestal  is  too  high,  we  cannot  reach  him,  and  it  is  extra- 
ordinarily tiring  even  to  attempt  to  follow  him  in  his  interminable 
Journeys  and  his  unending  sermons.  It  is  not  because  we  are 
disappointed  at  not  finding  the  frivolous,  it  is  because  we  fail  to 
find  the  human,  that  the  Journal  does  not  appeal  to  us  as  perhaps 
it  ought.  Nevertheless,  as  a  record  of  the  great  religious  re\dval, 
a  testimony  of  marvellously  sustained  enthusiasm  and  a  chronicle 
of  travel  in  the  United  Kingdom  in  the  eighteenth  century,  the 
Journal  is  undoubtedly  a  most  remarkable  document. 

The  earliest  diaries  were  not  easy  to  decipher.  The  entries 
are  generally  brief,  but  Wesley  employed  either  shorthand  or 
cipher  or  abbreviated  longhand.  At  the  very  beginning  he  sets 
down  : 

A  general  Rule  in  all  actions  of  Life 

Whenever  you  are  to  do  an  action,  consider  how  God  did  or  would  do  the 
like  and  do  you  immitate  His  example. 

Then  follow  "  General  Rules  of  Employing  Time  "  and  "  General 
Rules  as  to  Intention."  Regulation  was  the  keynote  of  his  hfe 
and  of  his  religious  system.  In  these  early  years  there  are  a  good 
many  brief  notes  of  self-reproach,  resolutions  for  self-disciphne 
and  private  spiritual  exercises.  After  his  ordination  in  1725  he 
begins  preaching,  but  we  only  get  just  the  bare  note  of  the  place 
and  date. 

The  pubhshed  Journal  begins  with  his  voyage  to  Georgia  in 
1835,  which  lasted  a  little  over  two  years  and  ended  in  a  serious 
dispute.  But  we  cannot  follow  Wesley  chronologically  through 
his  long  life,  which,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  months  in  1738 


158  ENGLISH  DIARIES  g 

in  Germany  visiting  the  Moravians  and  a  tour  in  Holland  in  1783, 
was  spent  Avithin  the  United  Kingdom.  It  will  be  best  to  give 
illustrative  extracts  from  the  vast  record  of  certain  aspects  of  his 
character  and  of  incidents  in  liis  career. 

When  the  earlier  years  have  passed,  the  note  of  self-condemna- 
tion disappears  and  the  tone  becomes  increasingly  self-confident. 

In  1738  he  lays  down  four  resolutions,  and  such  was  the  un- 
fhnching  determination  and  austerity  of  his  character  that  there 
is  every  reason  to  beheve  that  he  carried  them  out  so  far  as  mortal 
man  could : 

1.  To  use  absolute  openness  and  unreserve  with  all  I  should  converse  with. 

2.  To  labour  after  continual  seriousness,  not  willingly  indulging  in  any  the 
least  levity  of  behaviour,  or  in  laughter ;   no,  not  for  a  moment. 

3.  To  spare  no  word  which  does  not  tend  to  the  glory  of  God  ;  in  particular 
not  to  talk  of  worldly  thingL*  Others  may,  nay,  must.  But  what  is  that  to 
thee  ?    and 

4.  To  take  no  pleasure  which  does  not  tend  to  the  glory  of  God  ;  thaiiking 
God  every  moment  for  all  I  do  take  and  therefore  rejecting  every  sort  and 
degree  of  it  which  I  feel  I  cannot  so  thank  Him  in  and  for. 

In  the  same  year  later  on  he  makes  an  important  confession 
of  faith,  and  describes  a  sort  of  awakening  which  took  place  while 
he  was  hstening  to  a  sermon. 

I  felt  my  heart  strangely  warmed.  I  felt  I  did  trust  in  Christ,  Christ  alone, 
for  salvation  ;  and  an  assurance  was  given  me  that  He  had  taken  away  my 
sins,  even  mine,  and  saved  me  from  the  law  of  sin  and  death.  I  began  to 
pray  with  all  my  might  for  those  who  had  in  a  more  especial  mamaer  despite- 
fully  used  me  and  persecuted  me. 

The  self-confidence  which  perhaps  finds  its  origin  here,  and 
which  grew  in  Wesley  as  he  continued  his  work,  was  not  just 
ordinary  human  conceit,  but  a  profound  conviction  which  acted 
as  a  burning  inspiration  and  potent  incentive  in  all  his  activities. 

The  secret  of  his  immense  physical  strength  he  attributes — 
apart  from  the  grand  cause,  "  the  good  pleasure  of  God  who 
doeth  whatsoever  pleaseth  him  " — ^to  : 

(1)  My  constantly  rising  at  four  for  about  fifty  years. 

(2)  My  generally  preaching  at  five  in  the  morning  ;  one  of  the  most  healthy 
exercises  in  the  world. 

(3)  My  never  travelling  less,  by  sea  or  land,  than  four  thousand  five  hundred 
miles  in  a  year. 

At  the  age  of  77  he  says  he  had  not  felt  lowness  of  spirits  for 
one  quarter  of  an  hour  since  he  was  born.  At  80  he  fell  down  a 
flight  of  stone  stairs.  ^ 


JOHN  WESLEY  159 

My  head  reboimded  once  or  twice  from  the  edge  of  the  stone  etaire.  But 
it  felt  to  me  exactly  as  if  I  had  fallen  on  a  cushion  or  pillow. 

At  83  he  declares  he  is  never  tired  either  with  writing,  preaching 
or  travelhng,  and  at  85  that  he  has  never  lost  a  night's  sleep 
since  he  was  born.  There  are  times  when  he  has  a  sore  throat, 
a  cough  or  a  headache,  but  almost  invariably  he  dismisses  it  and 
goes  on  with  his  work  in  spite  of  it,  attributing  its  disappearance 
to  the  intervention  of  Providence.  Even  when  a  cloud  shields 
him  from  the  rays  of  a  hot  sun  while  he  is  preaching  he  reads 
in  the  coincidence  a  special  sign  of  God's  favour.  Not  till  he 
is  in  his  eighty-seventh  year  does  he  admit  the  waning  of  his 
physical  powers.     Then  he  writes  : 

I  am  now  an  old  man  decayed  from  head  to  foot.  My  eyes  are  dim  ;  my 
right  hand  shakes  much  ;  my  mouth  is  hot  and  dry  every  morning  ;  I  have 
a  lingering  fever  almost  every  day  ;  my  motion  is  weak  and  slow.  However, 
blessed  be  God,  I  do  not  slack  my  labour  ;   I  can  preach  and  write  still. 

On  one  occasion  only,  in  1753,  is  he  alarmed  about  his  health. 
He  has  fever,  and  when  he  goes  home  after  preaching  he  sits 
down  and  writes  his  own  epitaph,  "  to  prevent  vile  panegyric." 
He  describes  himself  as  "  a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning . .  . 
not  having  after  his  debts  are  paid  ten  pounds  behind  him." 

The  Journal  is  mainly  composed  of  Wesley's  preaching  record. 
Journey  after  journey  to  all  parts  of  the  United  Kingdom  occupy 
week  after  week,  month  after  month  :    "I  look  upon  the  world 
[as  my  parish,"  he  said;    and  as  he  rode  from  place  to  place  he 
Iread  his  book  on  horseback.     When  he  was  67  he  said  that  al- 
though he  had  ridden  over  a  hundred  thousand  miles,  covering 
.sometimes  90  miles  in  one  day,  no  horse  had  ever  stumbled  with 
jhim  while  he  rode  with  a  slack  rein.     He  preached  sometimes 
j  every  day  of  the  week,  sometimes  two  or  three  times  in  the  day. 
I  He  preached  in  churches  when  he  was  allowed  to;    he  preached 
jin  halls,  in  theatres,  in  rooms,  but  best  of  all  he  loved  preaching 
I  in  the  open  air  in  fields,  in  churchyards,  and  even  in  the  streets. 
It  was  Whitefield  who  converted  him  to  this  practice.     In  the 
earlier  years  he  sometimes  encountered  bitter  and  violent  oppo- 
sition,  and  not  infrequently  he  ran  considerable  danger.     But 
neither    opposition,    fatigue,    nor    weather    ever    deterred    him. 
We  will  give  a  series  of  typical  extracts  : 

^     1738.     I  preached  at  six  at  St.  Lawrence's ;  at  ten  in  St.  Catherine  Cree's 
j  chtirch  ;    and  in  the  afternoon  at  St.  John's  Wapping.     I  believe  it  pleased 
God  to  bless  the  first  sermon  most  because  it  gave  most  ofience. 


160  ENGLISH  DIARIES  | 

1742.  London,  Long  Lane-      At  length  they  began  throwing  large  stones 
upon  the  house   which,  forcing    their   way  wherever  they   came,  fell  do\\^l ; 
together  with  the  tiles  among  the  people  so  that  they  were  in  danger  of  their 
lives.  I 

1743.  We  reached  Gwennap  a  little  before  six  and  found  the  plain  covered 
from  end  to  end.     It  was  supposed  there  were  ten  thousand  people  to  whom  ' 
I  preached  Christ  our  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctification  and  redemption. 
I  could  not  conclude  till  it  was  so  dark  we  could  scarce  see  one  another.     And  ^ 
there  was  on  all  sides  the  deepest  attention  ;  none  speaking,  stirring,  or  scarce 
looking  aside. 

We  had  not  gone  a  hundred  yards  when  the  mob  of  Walsal  came  pouring 
in  like  a  flood  and  bore  down  all  before  them.  .  .  .  To  attempt  to  speak  was 
vain  for  the  noise  on  every  side  was  like  the  roaring  of  the  sea.  So  they 
dragged  me  along  till  they  came  to  the  town,  where  seeing  the  door  of  a  large 
house  open,  I  attempted  to  go  in  ;  but  a  man  catching  me  by  the  hair  pulled 
me  back  into  the  middle  of  the  mob.  They  made  no  more  stop  till  they  had 
carried  me  through  tfie  main  street  from  one  end  of  the  town  to  the  other.  I 
continued  speaking  all  the  time  to  those  within  hearing  feeling  no  pain  or 
weariness. 

1748.  Bolton.  They  then  began  to  throw  stones  ;  at  the  same  time  some 
got  upon  the  cross  behind  me  to  push  me  down ;  on  which  I  could  not  but 
observe  how  God  overrules  even  the  minutest  circumstances.  One  man  was 
bawling  just  at  my  ear  when  a  stone  strack  him  on  the  cheek  and  he  was  still. 
A  second  was  forcing  his  way  down  to  me  till  another  stone  hit  him  on  the 
forehead  .  .  .  the  third,  being  got  close  to  me,  stretched  out  his  hand  and  in 
the  instant  a  sharp  stone  came  upon  the  joints  of  his  fingei-s.  He  shook  his 
hand  and  was  very  quiet  till  I  concluded  my  discourse  and  went  away. 

1750.  Holyhead.  In  the  evening  I  was  surprised  to  see  instead  of  some 
poor  plain  people  a  room  full  of  men  daubed  with  gold  and  silver  .  .  .  several 
of  them  (I  afterwards  learned)  being  eminently  wicked  men.  I  delivered  my 
soul  but  they  could  in  no  wise  bear  it. 

1751.  London.  [After  he  had  sprained  his  ankle.]  I  was  carried  to  the 
Foundery  and  preached,  kneeling  (as  I  could  not  stand)  on  part  of  the  twenty 
third  Psalm. 

1759.  A  vast  majority  of  the  immense  congregation  in  Moorfields  were 
deeply  serioiis.  .  .  .  What  building  except  St.  Paul's  church  would  contain 
such  a  congregation,  and  if  it  would  what  himian  voice  could  have  reached 
them  there  ?  By  repeated  observations  I  find  I  can  command  twice  the 
nimaber  in  the  open  air  that  I  can  xonder  a  roof. 

1764.  Liverpool.  In  the  evening  the  house  was  fuller  if  possible  than 
the  night  before.  I  preached  on  the  "  one  thing  needftd  "  and  the  rich 
behaved  as  seriotisly  as  the  poor.  Only  one  young  gentlewoman  (I  heard) 
laughed  much.     Poor  thing  !     Doubtless  she  thought  "  I  laugh  prettily." 

1769.  Freshpool.  The  beasts  of  the  people  were  tolerably  quiet  till  I 
had  nearly  finished  my  sermon.  They  then  lifted  up  their  voice,  especially 
one,  called  a  gentleman  who  had  filled  his  pocket  with  rotten  eggs  ;  but  a 
young  man  coming  unawares,  clapped  liis  hands  on  each  side  and  mashed 


JOHN   WESLEY  161 

them  aU  at  once.     In  an  instant  he  was  perfume  aU  over ;  though  it  was  not 
so  sweet  as  balsam. 

1773.  Waterford.  As  I  was  drawing  to  a  concliision  some  of  the  Papists 
set  on  their  work  in  earnest.  They  knocked  down  John  Christian  with  two 
or  three  more  who  endeavoured  to  quiet  them  and  then  began  to  roar  like 
the  waves  of  the  sea ;   but  hitherto  could  they  come  and  no  farther. 

In  some  thousands  of  sermons  Wesley  must  have  repeated 
himself  very  often.  But  his  enthusiasm  was  terrific  and  he 
attracted  multitudes  who  were  affected  by  his  excited  eloquence. 
For  so  practical  a  man  his  behef  in  divine  interpositions  and 
wonders  is  rather  surprising.  Time  after  time  he  refers  to  the 
most  ordmary  occurrences  as  giving  proof  of  God's  intervention. 
.    One  day  when  he  was  tired  and  his  horse  was  lame  he  writes  : 

I  thought— cannot  God  heal  either  man  or  beast  by  any  means  or  without 
any  ?— immediately  my  headache  ceased  and  my  horses  lameness  in  the  same 
instant. 

He  also  writes  down  the  most  childish  stories  of  supposed 
miraculous   events. 

In  1741  he  has  an  estrangement  from  Whitefield,  who,  he  says, 

told  me,  he  and  I  preached  two  different  gospels  and  therefore  he  not  only 
would  not  join  with  or  give  me  the  right  hand  of  fellowship  but  was  resolved 
publicly  to  preach  against  me  and  my  brother,  wheresoever  he  preached  at  all. 

In  later  years  they  come  together  again,  and  it  appears  from  the 
toUowmg  entry  that  his  superiority  over  his  rival  preacher  lay 
m  his  physical  strength. 

I  breakfasted  with  Mr.  Whitefield  who  seemed  to  be  an  old,  old  man  being 
lairly  worn  out  in  his  Master's  service,  though  he  has  hardly  seen  fifty  years 
and  yet  it  pleases  God  that  I  who  am  now  in  my  sixty-third  year,  find  no 
disorder,  no  weakness,  no  decay,  no  difference  from  what  I  was  at  five  and 
twenty  ;    only  that  I  have  fewer  teeth  and  more  grey  hairs. 

A  little  later  there  is  an  entry : 

Mr.  Whitefield  caUed  upon  me.     He  breathes  nothing  but  peace  and  love. 

And  afterwards  he  refers  to  him  as  his  "  old  friend  and  fellow 
labourer.  ' 

Wesley  married  in  1751. 

For  many  years  I  remained  single  because  I  believed  I  could  be  more  useful 
in  a  single  than  m  a  married  state.  And  I  praise  God  who  enabled  me  to  do 
so.  1  now  fuUy  believe  that  in  my  present  circumstances  I  might  be  more 
useful  ma  married  state  ;  into  which  upon  this  clear  conviction  and  by  the 
advice  of  my  friends  I  entered  a  few  days  later. 
11 


162  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Once  or  twice  he  mentions  his  wife  as  accompanying  him  on 
his  journeys.  But  whatever  great  virtues  Wesley  had  he  can 
hardly  have  been  very  domestic.  In  1771,  January  23,  he 
writes  : 

For  what  cause  I  know  not  to  this  day (his  wife)  set  out  for  Newcastle 

purposing  "  never  to  return."     Non  earn  reliqui  ;  non  dimisi  ;  non  revocabo. 

And  ho  further  mention  of  her  occurs  in  the  Journal.  He  was 
no]  "  lover  of  quiet  days  "  ;  rural  pursuits  did  not  apjDcal  to  him 
at  all. 

Ceaseless  activity — preaching,  reading,  writing — was  the  rule 
of  his  life,  and  never  did  he  allow  an  opportunity  to  slip  of  trying 
to  convert  his  fellow-men  to  a  better  life.  Riding  from  Newport- 
Pagnell  he  is  ov^alaken  by  "a  serious  man,"  who  enters  into 
conversation  with  him  which  ends  in  a  warm  dispute. 

He  then  grew  warmer  and  warmer  ;  told  me  I  was  rotten  at  heart  and  sup- 
posed I  was  one  of  John  Wesley's  followers.  I  told  him  "  No,  I  am  John 
Wesley  himself."  Upon  which  he  woiild  gladly  have  run  away  out  right. 
But  being  the  better  mounted  of  the  two,  I  kept  close  to  his  side  and  endeav- 
oured to  show  him  his  heart  till  we  came  into  the  streets  of  Northampton. 

On  another  occasion  near  Newcastle  he  meets  a  cock-fighter. 

I  met  a  gentleman  in  the  streets  cursing  and  swearing  in  so  dreadful  a 
manner  that  I  could  not  but  stop  him.  He  soon  grew  calmer  ;  told  me  he 
must  treat  me  with  a  glass  of  wine  ;  and  that  he  would  come  and  hear  me 
only  he  was  afraid  I  should  say  something  against  the  fighting  of  cocks. 

At  Bath  he  tackles  Beau  Nash. 

"Sir,  did  you  ever  hear  me  preach  ?  ' "  "  No . "  "  How  then  can  you  j  udge 
of  what  you  never  heard  ?  "  "  Sir,  by  common  report."  "  Common  report 
is  not  enough.  Give  me  leave,  Sir,  to  ask,  Is  not  your  name  Nash  ?  "  "  My 
name  is  Nash."  "  Sir,  I  dare  not  judge  of  you  by  common  report ;  I  think 
it  is  not  enough  to  judge  by."  Here  he  paused  a  while  and  having  recovered 
himself  said  :  "I  desire  to  know  what  this  people  comes  here  for  "  :  on  which 
one  replied  "  Sir,  leave  him  to  me  ;  let  an  old  woman  answer  him.  You  Mr. 
Nash  take  care  of  your  body  ;  we  take  care  of  o\ir  souls  ;  and  for  the  food  of 
otu"  souls  we  come  here."     He  replied  not  a  word  but  walked  away. 

Wesley's  reading  was  mainly  theological  but  there  are  occa-] 
sional    comments    on    other   subjects.     He   reads    Rousseau    oi 
Education  and  bursts  out : 

But  how  was  I  disappointed  !  Sm-e  a  more  consummate  coxcomb  never 
saw  the  sun  !     How  amazingly  fuU  of  himself. 

Of  the  arts  we  hear  very  httle.     He  approves  a  performance 


JOHN  WESLEY  163 

the  Messiah  at  Bristol  which  he  says  exceeded  his  expectation. 
But  he  disapproves  in  general  of  oratorios  because  : 

One  is  singing  the  same  words  ten  times  over  ;   the  other  singing  different 
words  by  different  persons  at  one  and  the  same  time. 

The  mothers  of  great  men  are  often  found  to  be  remarkable 
women.     Wesley's  mother,  of  whom  he  writes  a  great  deal  in  his 
Journal  when  she  dies  in  1742,  bears  out  this  theory.     The  mother 
of  nineteen  children,  she  was  a  woman  of  strong  character,  but  a 
stern  and  forbidding  disciplinarian.     Her  children  were  brought 
up  "  to  fear  the  rod  and  to  cry  softly,"  "  the  odious  noise  of  the 
crymg  of  children  was  rarely  heard  in  the  house."     Her  main 
object  was  "  to  conquer  the  will  of  the  children  betimes."     She 
knew  Latm  and  Greek  and  was  herself  a  preacher.     Of  her  nine- 
teen children  only  six  survived.     As  Mr.  Birrell  says:    "The 
mother  of  the  Wesleys  thought  more  of  her  children's  souls  than 
of  their  bodies."     From  her  it  was,  however,  that  John  Wesley 
inherited  his  marvellous  powers  of  self-discipline  and  his  genius 
for  organization.     His  imperious  ambition  drove  him  forward, 
and  he  succeeded  in  establishing  a  great  new  religious  movement 
which  at  the  time  of  his  death  numbered  a  hundred  thousand 
members  and  now  counts  its   members  in   Great  Britain  and 
America  by  milhons. 

The  Journal  deals  fully  with  the  inauguration  of  the  Holy  Club 
and  the  gradual  growth  of  the  new  organization.     It  makes  fre- 
quent reference,  too,  to  the  brutality  of  many  of  the  judges,  the 
harshness  of  the  magistrate,  the  awful  condition  of  the  prisons 
and  the  drunkenness,  squalor  and  misery  that  existed  in  towns. 

To  Methodists  the  Journal  is  an  invaluable  record  of  the  in- 
auguration of  their  great  movement.  To  the  ordinary  reader  it 
cannot  appeal  so  much. 


THE  EARL  OF  EGMONT 

THE  Historical  Manuscripts  Commission  have  published 
the  first  volume  of  the  diary  of  Viscount  Percival,  after- 
wards 1st  Earl  of  Egmont.  It  covers  the  years  1730  to 
1733.  The  whole  manuscript  consists  of  twelve  foUo  volumes 
extending  from  1730  to  1747.  In  addition  to  this  there  are  some 
fragmentary  entries  for  the  year  1728-9  in  the  British  Museum. 
We  have  the  great  advantage  in  the  Historical  Manuscripts 
Commission's  volume  of  having  the  complete  diary  without  the 
often  irritating  omissions  which  most  editors  seem  obhged  to 
make. 

Egmont  kept  a  diary  for  at  least  eighteen  or  nineteen  years, 
probably  longer,  as  when  he  was  15  he  expressed  liis  intention 
of  keeping  one.  Many  instances  have  been  given  of  diarists 
who  wrote  for  longer  periods,  but  there  is  certainly  no  instance 
of  anyone  who  kept  so  voluminous  a  diary.  The  four  years 
1730-1733  cover  477  closely  printed  pages,  and  there  are  single 
entries  of  three  to  four  thousand  words.  His  diligence  and 
assiduity  as  a  diarist  are  astonishing.  It  is  all  punctiliously  and 
laboriously  written  out  in  longhand,  and  the  entries  are  daily 
except  for  short  periods  when  he  is  away  on  a  hohday.  Pubhc 
affairs  occupy  his  attention  chiefly,  and  his  records  of  parliamen- 
tary debates  are  the  fullest  that  exist  of  the  period  during  which 
he  served  as  a  member  of  the  House  of  Commons.  He  himself 
spoke  seldom,  but  he  had  great  powers  of  concentrated  attention 
and  almost  verbal  memory.  He  gives  therefore  practically  the 
whole  debate  more  fully  than  it  is  given  to-day  in  a  good  news^ 
paper  report.  For  this  reason  his  diary  acquires  special  historical 
importance ;  it  takes  the  place  of  a  Hansard  for  the  period.  He 
comments  but  httle,  he  does  not  select  the  chief  speeches,  but 
every  speaker  is  reported  with  an  occasional  descriptive  word 
such  as  "  a  sorry  speech  "  or  "a  bantering  speech."  Pohtical 
conversations  and  committees  are  treated  with  the  same  full 
exactitude.  He  writes  comparatively  httle  of  a  personal  char- 
acter and  indulges  in  no  self-analysis,  and  makes  few  reflections 

164 


1 


THE  EARL  OF  EGMONT  165 

apart  from  his  opinions  on  public  affairs.  Sermons  are  recorded, 
plays  mentioned,  and  there  is  a  good  deal  about  music,  of  which 
he  was  very  fond. 

Before  entering  the  British  House  of  Commons  Percival  had 
served  in  the  Irish  Parliament.  He  married  in  1710,  and  we  can 
see  from  his  diary  that  his  marriage  was  a  happy  one. 

This  day  1  have  been  21  years  married  and  I  aclmowledge  God's  blessing 
that  I  have  hved  so  many  years  in  full  happiness  with  my  dear  wife. 

This  day  I  have  been  married  twenty  two  years  and  I  bless  God  that  I  have 
lived  so  long  with  the  best  wife,  the  best  Christian,  the  best  mother  and  the 
best  mistress  of  her  servants  living  ;  and  that  not  only  the  world  thinks  so 
but  that  I  am  myself  sensible  of  it. 

Perusing  the  very  lengthy  and  detailed  entries  not  only  of 
debates  but  of  conversations,  one  sees  the  man  very  clearly  : 
without  marked  literary  talent,  with  no  conspicuous  parliamentary 
abilities,  he  was  thoughtful,  very  conscientious,  and  noticeably 
and   exceptionally    high-minded    for  a  poutician    of    that    era, 
although  some  of  the  political  usages  which  he  refers  to  may 
rnake  us  smile.     He  was  independent  in  his  views  and  very  per- 
sistent, more  especially  where  his  son's  interests  were  concerned. 
He  was  formally  religious.     No  Sunday  passed  without  obser- 
vance of  the  duties  of  prayers  and  sermon,  and  often  of  "  com- 
municating "  also,  and  if  public  worship  was  not  possible  there 
were  invariably  "  prayers  and  sermon  "  at  home.     Percival  took 
himself  very  seriously,  and  we  should  doubt  if  he  had  any  sense 
of  humour.     Like  so  many  diarists,  he  never  fails  to  note  down 
the  words  of  Royalty,  even  when  the  conversations  are  of  no 
sort  of  interest. 

The  commanding  figure  in  the  early  years  of  George  II  was 
Sir  Robert  Walpole.  Percival  is  a  personal  friend  of  his  and  a 
political  supporter,  and  Horace  Walpole,  who  was  a  sort  of  go- 
between  through  whom  approaches  to  the  great  minister  were 
naade,  also  figures  largely  in  the  diary.  The  following  passage 
shows  that  Percival  could  be  very  critical  of  his  chief; 

Sir  Robert  Walpole  .  .  .  found  there  are  certain  occasions  where  he  cannot 
carry  points  ;  it  is  this  meanness  of  his  (the  prostitution  of  the  character  of 
a  hrst  minister  m  assisting  and  strenuously  supporting  the  defence  of  dun<^hill 
worms,  let  their  cause  be  ever  so  unjust,  against  men  of  honour,  birth  and 
tortune,  and  that  m  person  too)  that  gains  him  so  much  ill  will  •  Sir 

Bobert  hke  the  altars  of  refuge  in  old  times,  is  the  asylum  of  little  'unworthy 
wretches  who  submitting  to  dirty  work,  endear  themselves  to  him  and  get 
his  protection  first  and  then  his  favour  which  as  he  is  first  Minister  is  sure  to 
draw  after  it  the  countenance  of  the  Court  ...  the  King  can  seldom  know 
the  merits  and  character  of  private  persons  but  from  the  first  Minister  who 


166  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

we  see  has  no  so  great  regard  for  any  as  for  these  little  pickthanks  and  scrubs 
for  whom  he  risks  liis  character  and  the  character  of  his  high  station. 

Percival  had  no  difficulty  in  getting  his  advance  in  the  peerage 
out  of  Walpole.  We  find  the  very  famihar  excuse  that  he  does 
not  want  it  for  himself,  but 

the  world  thought  there  was  something  in  quality  and  my  own  household 
pressed  me  to  ask  for  it. 

It  is  true  that  he  was  not  ambitious  for  himself.  He  explains 
this  to  George  II. 

I  waited  on  the  King  and  told  him  that  though  loving  my  ease,  I  never  yet 
would  be  in  Parliament,  yet  having  observed  in  all  reigns  that  the  first  that 
was  summoned  tvas  always  the  most  troublesome  to  the  Prince  I  was  resolved 
to  stand  that  I  might  contribute  my  poor  services  to  the  settlement  of  affairs. 

It  is  interesting,  and  indeed  surprising,  to  read  of  the  degree  of 
excitement  caused  by  certain  proposals  in  Parliament  which 
have  now  passed  entirely  into  oblivion.  An  entry  may  be  quoted 
with  regard  to  Walpole's  unpopular  Excise  scheme  which  even 
he  failed  to  carry  through. 

We  learned  that  last  night  the  City  rang  their  bells  for  joy,  the  Bill  was 
dropped  and  made  more  bonfires  and  illimoinations  than  ever  was  known. 
They  broke  the  windows  of  the  Post  Office  and  of  all  other  hoToses  not  illumin- 
ated and  would  have  done  it  of  the  Parliament  House  while  we  were  sitting 
if  they  could  have  come  within  reach  of  them.  They  burnt  Sir  Robert  in 
effigy  with  Sarah  Malcome  in  several  places  and  in  others  dressed  up  a  pole  and 
whipped  it.  a 

Among  other  matters  which  engaged  the  attention  of  Parlia-1 
ment  was  the  investigation  of  the  operations  of  the  Charitable 
Corporation  which  resulted  in  the  expulsion  of  prominent  members 
of  the  House  of  Commons.  In  connection  with  this  question 
he  notes  how  ladies  were  first  admitted  into  the  gallery  of  the 
House. 

This  day  I  carried  my  wife  and  daughter  Kitty  to  the  House  of  Commons 
to  hear  Sir  Archibald  Grant  make  his  defence.  So  many  ladies  said  to  be 
undone  by  the  managers  of  the  Charitable  Corporation,  induced  the  Speaker 
to  indulge  ladies  to  be  present  in  the  gallery  and  witnesses  of  the  justice  the 
Parliament  are  doing  on  those  vile  persons.  •  'i 

When  he  retired  from  Parliament  and  wishes  his  son  to  take 
his  place,  long  drawn-out  complications  ensue  with  regard  to 
Harwich,  his  constituency,  which  end  in  serious  "  altercations  '* 
between  him  and  the  Walpoles.     The  son,  afterwards  2nd  Earl 


THE  EARL   OF  EGMONT  167 

of  Egmont,  father  of  Percival,  the  Prime  Minister,  showed  marked 
pohtical  abihty  at  an  early  age.  His  father  discovers  that  he  is 
the  author  of  two  pamphlets. 

They  are  the  first  essays  of  this  kind  and  he  made  me  promise  not  to  acquaint 
any  but  my  wife  that  he  wrote  them.  He  need  not  be  ashamed  of  them  and 
few  cliildren  at  nineteen  years  old  would  have  done  so  well. 

But  later  on  Percival  is  much  dismayed  when  he  finds  that  his 
son  had  run  through  £2,000  during  his  stay  in  Ireland.  How 
he  reprimanded  him  we  do  not  know,  but  he  confides  his  annoyance 
to  his  diary. 

There  are,  however,  no  further  references  to  trouble  between 
father  and  son,  and  Percival  throws  himself  heart  and  soul  into 
the  business  of  getting  his  son  a  seat  in  the  House  of  Commons. 

The  arrangements  and  intrigues  with  regard  to  Harwich,  which 
occupy  many  long  entries,  illustrate  the  astonishing  methods  by 
which  elections  were  arranged  in  those  days.  The  Walpoles, 
however,  for  various  reasons  were  not  entirely  sympathetic,  but 
Percival  never  misses  an  opportunity  of  pressing  his  son's  claims. 
"  A  strange  return  for  my  personal  regard  to  Sir  R.  Walpole," 
he  writes  on  hearing  some  unfavourable  news. 

At  last  the  quarrel  becomes  serious. 

As  I  was  coming  out  of  Court  Sir  Robert  Walpole  came  in,  and  in  a  familiar 
kind  sort  of  way  asking  me  how  I  did  offered  me  his  hand  but  I  drew  back 
mine  and  in  a  respectful  cool  way  said  only  to  him  "  Your  humble  servant. 
Sir." 

The  Walpoles  try  to  patch  things  up,  but  Percival  continues  to 
"  be  much  heated  at  Sir  Robert  Walpole's  ill  usage  of  me,"  and 
eventually,  although  this  comes  later  than  the  period  covered  by 
the  printed  volume,  his  son  is  returned  for  another  constituency. 
Percival  took  an  active  part  in  the  enterprise  for  the  colonisation 
of  Georgia,  and  the  proceedings  of  the  Georgia  Committee  are 
very  fully  reported.  Cordial  as  were  Egmont's  relations  with 
the  Royal  Family,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  had  a  very  high 
opinion  of  their  judgment ;    and  their  praise  leaves  him  cold. 

In  1731  he  gives  a  character  sketch  of  Frederick  Prince  of 
Wales  : 

The  character  of  the  Prince  is  this  :  he  has  no  reigning  passion,  if  it  be  it  is 
to  pass  the  evening  with  six  or  seven  others  over  a  glass  of  wine  and  hear 
them  talk  of  a  variety  of  things  ;  but  he  does  not  drink.  He  loves  play  and 
plays  to  win  that  he  may  supply  his  pleasures  and  generosity  which  last  are 
great  but  so  ill  placed  that  he  often  wants  wherewith  to  do  a  well-placed 
kindness,  by  giving  to  unworthy  objects.     He  has  had  several  mistresses  and 


168  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

now  keeps  one  an  apothecary's  daughter  of  Kingston  ;  but  is  not  nice  in  his 
choice  and  talks  more  of  feats  this  way  than  he  acts.  He  can  talk  gravely 
according  to  his  company  but  is  sometimes  more  childish  than  becomes  his 
age.  He  thinks  he  laiows  business  but  attends  to  none  ;  hkes  to  be  flattered. 
He  is  good  natiired  and  if  he  meets  with  a  good  Ministry  may  satisfy  his 
people  ;  he  is  extremely  dutiful  to  his  parents  who  do  not  retiirn  it  in  love 
and  seem  to  neglect  him  by  letting  him  do  as  he  will,  but  they  keep  him  short 
of  money. 

With  the  Queen  (Caroline  of  Anspach)  he  is  on  very  intimate 
terms.  He  has  long  and  interesting  conversations  with  her,  for 
he  says  "  she  reads  and  converses  on  a  multitude  of  things  more 
than  our  sex  generally  does."  One  example  may  be  given  in 
which  the  diarist  himself  seems  to  have  expressed  some  very 
sound  ideas  ±o  her  majesty  : 

1732.  April  29.  Went  to  Covirt  where  the  King  and  Queen  talked  a  great 
deal  to  me,  she  took  notice  of  my  collection  of  heads  and  said  it  must  be  very 
curious  and  fine  [these  "  heads  "  are  referred  to  in  anothsr  entry  as  being 
"  in  wax  "]  but  wondered  I  did  not  work  upon  it  in  Winter.  I  said  I  had  not 
time.  "  No  "  said  she  "  when  3'ou  rise  at  four  o'clock  ?  When  do  you  go 
to  bed  ?  "  I  said,  at  ten.  "  That  is,"  said  she  "  sleeping  six  hours  which  is 
long  enough  for  anybody."  We  then  talked  of  the  vices  of  the  age  and  she 
said  she  thought  the  world  as  good  as  it  was  formerly.  I  said  it  ought  to  be 
BO  considering  what  a  good  example  we  had  before  tis  but  there  were  fashion- 
able vices  that  reigned  more  one  age  than  another,  as  cheating  and  over- 
reaching our  neighbour  does  now  more  than  ever  occasioned  by  riches,  trade 
and  the  great  increase  of  the  city,  for  populous  towns  have  more  roguery  than 
little  ones,  for  here  men  may  hide  it  but  when  men  lived  more  in  the  country 
as  in  former  times,  there  was  not  that  knowledge  how  to  cheat  neither  the 
temptation  nor  opportiinity  given.  "  May  be  "  replied  the  Queen  "  you  are 
for  reducing  people  to  poverty  to  make  them  honest."  "  Not  so,"  replied  I 
"  but  great  wealth  occasions  luxury  and  luxxiry  extravagance  and  extrava- 
gance want  and  want  knavery." 

In  contrast  to  this  entry  there  are  many  lengthy  pages  devoted 
to  the  petty  question  of  the  precedence  of  Irish  peers  in  some 
procession.  Sometimes  he  makes  very  long  transcriptions  of 
sermons,  and  his  religious  inclinations  can  be  noted  by  the  fre- 
quent references  to  "  prayers  and  sermon  "  at  home.  The  only 
very  short  entries  are  those  where  he  simply  notes  "  stayed  at 
home."  These  moments  of  leisure  were  probably  devoted  to 
writing  up  the  long  reports,  and  we  must  remember  that  he  got 
up  at  four  o'clock.  He  gives  a  very  full  and  touching  account 
of  his  "  sister  Bering's  "  death  and  his  endeavours  to  comfort  her 
in  her  last  hours.  Day  by  day  the  details  of  her  illness  are  re- 
corded with  all  the  religious  consolations  with  which  he  tries 
to  soften  her  last  moments.     When  she  dies  he  writes  : 


THE  EARL  OF  EGMONT  169 

She  died  away  more  gradually  than  a  lamp  going  out  or  a  lamb  falling  to 
Bleep  and  they  who  were  in  the  room,  for  I  could  not  bear  to  be  there,  said 
they  never  in  their  lives  saw  nor  heard  of  so  composed  and  gentle  and  sweet 
an  end. 

His  own  health  is  occasionally  referred  to. 

I  stayed  all  day  still  at  home  on  accoimt  of  my  soar  throat  and  drew  two 
teeth. 

This  day  I  visited  Mr.  John  Temple  who  gave  me  for  my  rhetunatic  pains  a 
bottle  of  right  old  verjuice  and  advised  me  to  take  a  glass  of  it  with  a  toast 
in  it  every  morning  fasting  and  going  to  bed  and  to  rub  my  joints  with  it 
after  it  is  well  warmed,  to  continue  this  three  weeks. 

Still  confined  by  the  blow  on  my  leg  which  I  got  tliis  day  semiit  coming 
out  of  Court  by  a  chair,  and  for  which  Mr.  Dickens  the  surgeon  daily  attends 
me. 

Percival's  love  of  music  is  shown  conspicuously  throughout  the 
diary.  He  goes  frequently  to  the  "  Vocal  Club  "  to  "  excellent 
Concerts  of  Music  "  and  gives  regular  concerts  in  his  own  house. 
A  few  quotations  on  this  subject  may  be  given  beginning  with 
two  which  occur  in  the  manuscript  fragm.ents  of  1728-9. 

At  night  I  went  to  the  Crown  tavern  to  hear  the  musick  (the  Academy  of 
Vocal  Mmic)  which  the  gentlemen  of  the  King's  Chapel  have  every  fortnight 
there,  being  an  attempt  to  restore  ancient  Church  Musick. 

1730.  In  the  evening  I  went  to  my  sister  Percival  to  hear  Signer  Fabri 
who  sings  tenor  in  our  Opera,  perform,  and  I  engaged  him  to  teach  my  daughter 
at  three  guineas  for  ten  times. 

The  Prince  (Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales)  seems  to  have  had  a 
desire  to  join  his  orchestra  : 

He  was  learning  the  bass  viol  for  he  could  not  always  be  in  company.  I 
answered  the  pleasm-e  of  life  lay  in  little  things.  He  said  he  hoped  soon  to 
play  well  enough  to  be  admitted  of  my  concert  and  have  my  wife  hear  him. 
I  answered  it  would  be  the  greatest  honour  I  could  ever  expect. 

"  Hendel  from  Hanover  "  he  refers  to  as 

a  man  of  the  vastest  genius  and  skill  in  music  that  perhaps  has  lived  since 
Orpheus.  The  great  variety  of  manner  in  liis  compositions  whether  serious 
or  brisk  whether  for  the  Church  or  the  stage  or  the  chamber  and  that  agreeable 
mixtm-e  of  styles  that  are  in  his  works,  that  fire  and  spirit  far  sm^assing  his 
brother  musicians  soon  gave  him  preference  over  Bononcini  with  the  English. 

Sympathetic  as  he  was  to  musicians,  his  lordship  seems  to  have 
been  tinged  with  a  sense  of  the  profession's  comparative  social 
inferiority  when  he  says  that  a  salary  of  five  hundred  poimds  a 


170  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

year  was  "  a  sum  which  no  musician  ever  had  before  from  any 
prince  nor  ought  to  have." 

Once  on  his  birthday  he  describes  his  own  position  with  some 
self-satisfaction. 

1731.  Jvdy  12.  This  day  being  my  birthday,  I  complete  my  age  of  forty 
eight  years  and  enter  upon  my  forty  ninth.  I  bless  God  that  hitherto  I  have 
had  neither  gout  nor  stone  but  enjoy  a  perfect  state  of  health.  Many  others 
are  His  mercies  to  me.  I  am  in  possession  of  a  good  name  and  of  a  fortune 
greater  than  what  my  father  left.  ...  I  have  a  wife  after  my  own  heart 
being  perfect  in  every  virtue  and  without  alloy  and  three  children  sound  in 
body  and  mind  and  dutiful.  My  son  gives  himself  to  useful  things  and  pro- 
mises to  make  a  considerable  man  if  he  can  be  it  without  breach  of  his  inte- 
grity and  virtue  which  he  is  remarkable  for  :  and  my  daughters  have  made 
great  progress  in  their  exercises.  I  coxmt  it  my  highest  felicity  that  at  the 
same  time  that  I  am  perfectly  sensible  of  my  happiness,  I  am  ready  to  part 
with  it  all  and  to  change  this  life  for  a  better  when  God  pleases  :  the  thought 
of  death  carries  no  sting  with  it  for  me.     Blessed  be  God  ! 

Two  more  volumes  of  Egmont's  diary  are  to  appear.  n 


Vi* 
I 


FANNY  BURNEY  (Madame  d'Arblay) 

IF  ever  there  was  a  diarist,  Fanny  Burney  was  one.  Yet  in 
a  close  perusal  of  the  eight  volumes  of  her  diary  and 
letters  it  is  not  always  easy  to  detach  the  journal  from 
the  letters.  In  fact,  the  clear  distinction  that  there  is  between 
diary  writing  and  letter  writing  becomes  in  the  case  of  Fanny 
Burney  obscured.  Letters  divided  up  by  daily  dates  can  be 
counted  as  journal,  but  towards  the  end  we  get  sections  of  what 
is  called  "  narrative,"  which  constitute  memoirs  and  cannot  be 
regarded  as  journal.  The  combination  of  the  three,  the  journal, 
the  letters  and  the  narratives,  give  us  as  full  a  picture  of  the 
authoress  in  the  earlier  days  as  it  is  possible  to  get.  The  private 
meditations,  which  are  of  a  religious  character,  would  add  still 
further  to  our  knowledge,  but  they  have  not  been  published. 

There  is  no  need  to  give  a  prehminary  sketch  of  so  well  known 
a  literary  character  as  the  author  of  Evelina.  The  analysis  of 
her  diary  will  in  itself  allow  us  to  pass  in  rapid  review  the  chief 
incidents  in  her  long  life,  which  divides  itself  more  or  less  into 
five  distinct  periods  :  childhood,  early  life  at  home,  court  life, 
married  life,  and  widowhood. 

As  to  her  motive  and  method  we  must  glance  through  the 
whole  diary  to  find  the  key. 

The  dedication  of  the  journal,  which  was  begun  on  March  27, 
1768,  when  she  was  15  years  old,  begins  : 

To  have  some  account  of  my  thoughts,  manners,  acquaintance,  and  actions, 
when  the  hour  arrives  in  which  time  is  more  nimble  than  memory  is  the  reason 
which  induces  me  to  keep  a  Journal.  A  Journal  in  which  I  must  confess  my 
every  thought  must  open  my  whole  heart  !  But  a  thing  of  this  kind  must 
be  addressed  to  somebody — I  must  imagine  myself  to  be  talking — talking  to 
the  most  intimate  friends — to  one  whom  I  should  take  delight  in  confiding  and 
remorse  in  concealment :  but  who  must  this  friend  be  ? 

She  comes  to  the  conclusion  it  must  be  Nobody,  and  accord- 
ingly to  "  a  certain  Miss  Nobody  "  the  diary  is  addressed.  In 
fact,  Fanny  Burney  faced  from  the  outset  the  question  which 
most  diarists  leave  unsettled  or  rather  unrevealed,  namely  the 

171 


172  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

practical  impossibility  of  writing  without  imagining  some  one 
reading.  As  a  child,  she  decided  on  this  imaginary  person, 
later  she  definitely  addressed  her  journal  to  one  of  her  sisters, 
to  Mr.  Crisp,  or  occasionally  to  her  father,  but  this  in  no 
way  altered  her  intention  at  the  time  that  it  should  be  private 
and  confidential.  Its  intense  egotism  in  the  early  years,  a  natural 
characteristic  of  a  real  diary  writer,  is  sufficient  proof  of  this. 
There  are  several  passages  which  show  how  strong  in  her  was  the 
itch  to  record  passing  events. 

1768.  I  cannot  express  the  pleasure  I  have  in  writing  down  my  thoughts 
at  the  very  moment — ^my  opinion  of  people  when  I  first  see  them  and  how 
I  alter  or  how  confirm  myself  in  it .  .  .  there  is  something  to  me  very  imsatis- 
factory  in  pissing  year  after  year  without  even  a  memorandum  of  what  you 
did. 

She  had  begun  at  a  still  earlier  age,  but  unfortunately  she 
destroyed  her  earliest  diaries. 

1774.  I  burnt  all  up  to  my  fifteenth  year — thinking  I  grew  too  old  for 
scribbling  nonsense  but  as  I  am  less  j'oimg,  I  grow,  I  fear,  less  wise,  for  I 
carmot  any  long  resist  what  I  find  to  be  irresistible,  the  pleasure  of  popping 
down  my  thoughts  from  time  to  time  on  paper. 

When  she  decides  to  address  her  diary  to  her  sister  she  calls 
it  "  journahzing  "  ;  and  the  inclination  for  this  form  of  writing 
never  failed. 

1780.  I  am  not  much  in  cue  for  journalizing  but  I  am  yet  less  inclined  for 
anything  else. 

But  it  was  for  the  events  and  incidents  and  not  for  the  deeper 
reflections  on  life  that  her  journal  was  reserved. 

1789.  But  why  do  I  forget  the  resolution  with  which  I  began  these  my 
chronicles  of  never  mixing  with  them  my  reUgious  sentiments — opinions 
— hopes — ^fears — belief — or  aspirations  ?  .  .  .  I  never  will  jumble  together 
what  I  deem  holy  with  what  I  know  to  be  trivial. 

And  later  again  she  refers  to  the  entries  in  the  diary  as  "  poor 
shallow  memorials."  In  fact,  she  found  herself  very  often  in 
what  she  describes  as  "  a  scribbhng  vein,"  and  being  surrounded 
as  she  was  practically  all  her  hfe  through  by  interesting  and 
eminent  people,  she  was  afforded  ample  opportunity  for  indulg- 
ing her  talent.  And  her  talent  was  very  remarkable.  Every 
line  she  wrote  is  by  no  means  worth  reading.  Her  proUxity  is 
tiresome,  her  gush,  though  characteristic  of  her  time,  often 
irritating.    But  she  had  one  particular  faculty  which  can  hardly 


FANNY  BURNEY  lt3     ^ 

have  been  surpassed  by  any  other  writer,  and  which  is  really 
the  main  reason  of  her  journal  having  gained  such  a  high  repu- 
tation.    This  was   her  capacity  for  memorising  and  recording 
conversations — ^not  just  little  scraps  of  dialogue  introduced  as 
illustrations  or  as  examples  of  how  she  herself  scored  off  her 
interlocutors — but    pages    of    full    conversations    disclosing    the 
personalities  and  characteristics  of  the    participants,  sometimes 
with  considerable  humour  and  sometimes  with  intense  serious- 
ness.    This  is  her  method  also  in  her  novels.     In  fiction  there 
can  be  no  doubt  she  was  immediately  successful.     But  in  actual 
life,  too,  while  no  one  can  pretend  they  are  anything  like  ver- 
batim reports,  the  conversations  have  just  that  quality  wliich 
makes   the   painting   of  a   great   artist   give  a  more   interesting 
impression   than  a  far  more  rigidly  accurate   photograph.     She 
rarely  gi^^es  any  full  account  of  the  outward  appearance  of  her 
characters.     They    break    into    conversation    immediately,  and 
most  convincing  to  the  reader  do  they  seem.     Fanny  Burney 
can  never  be  suspected  of  deliberate  invention  or  misrepresenta- 
tion, but  her  imagination  must  have  filled  up  the  gaps.     She 
admits  her  prejudices,  but  fairness  of  mind  is  one  of  the  most 
conspicuous  characteristics  of  every  line  she  wrote  in  her  diary. 
"  All  that  I  relate  in  Journalizing,"  she  says  in  a  letter,   "  is 
strictly  nay  'plainly  Fact :  I  never  in  all  my  Life  have  been  a  Sayer 
of  the  Thing  that  is  not,  and  now  I  should  be  not  only  a  Knave 
but  a  Fool  also  in  so  doing,  as  I  have  other  purposes  for  Imaginery 
characters  than  filling  Letters  with  them." 

These  frequently  recurring  and  often  long  conversations  make 
the  illustration  of  the  diary  by  means  of  extracts  extremely 
difficult.  We  can  do  little  more,  therefore,  than  refer  to  them. 
This  phenomenal  talent  was  not  gradually  developed,  she  seems 
practically  to  have  been  born  with  it.  In  the  first  year  of  the 
diary,  when  she  was  15,  she  begins  an  entry  :  "I  have  had  to- 
day the  first  real  conversation  I  have  ever  had  in  my  life  except 
with  Mr.  Crisp  " ;  then  follows  a  dialogue  which  occupies  five 
and  a  half  closely  printed  pages  with  no  sort  of  clumsiness  in 
either  phrase  or  expression. 

The  early  diaries,  covering  the  period  from  1768  to  1778,  deal 
with  her  home  life  and  the  visitors  who  came  to  her  father's 
house.  Dr.  Burney  was  a  lover  of  music,  engaged  on  a  History 
of  Music,  and  Fanny  acted  as  his  amanuensis.  She  often  ex- 
presses her  devotion  to  him :  "I  am  never  half  as  happy  as 
with  him,"  and  also  her  affection  for  Mr.  Crisp,  who  goes  by  the 
name  of ' '  Daddy. ' '    We  have  accounts  of  tea  parties,  plays,  private 


174  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

theatricals,  fancy  dress  balls;  and  the  books  she  was  reading 
are  duly  noted.  Garrick  was  a  frequent  visitor,  and  specially 
dehghted  her  and  her  brothers  and  sisters  because  he  was  always 
ready  for  all  sorts  of  pranks  with  children.  She  records  a 
conversation  with  her  father  about  his  forthcoming  book. 

"  But  pray,  Doctor,  when  shall  we  have  the  History  out  ?  Do  let  me  know 
in  time  that  I  may  prepare  to  blow  the  trumpet  of  Fame."  He  then  put  his 
stick  to  his  mouth  and  in  a  Raree-show-man's  voice  cried,  "  Here  is  the  only 
true  History,  Gentlemen,  please  to  buy,  please  to  buy.  Sir,  I  shall  blow  it 
in  the  very  ear  of  yon  scurvy  magistrate  "  (meaning  Sir  John  Hawkins  who  is 
writing  the  same  history).  He  then  ran  on  with  great  humour  upon  twenty 
subjects  ;  but  so  much  of  his  drollery  belongs  to  his  voice,  looks  and  manner 
that  writing  loses  it  almost  all. 

She  al^o  greatly  admired  Garrick's  acting.  In  Richard  III  she 
says  : 

Garrick  was  sublimely  horrible.  Good  heavens — how  he  made  me  shudder 
whenever  he  appeared  !  It  is  inconceivable  how  terribly  great  he  is  in  this 
character. 

In  many  of  the  conversations  which  took  place  round  her  she 
did  not  participate,  though  she  often  listened  attentively  enough. 

Dr.  Shepherd,  Mr.  Twiss  and  my  father  conversed  upon  foreign  countries 
and  Susy  and  I  sat  very  snug  together  amused  either  by  ourselves  or  them 
as  we  chose. 

We  must  pass  from  the  outpourings  of  the  young  girl  which 
occupy  the  best  part  of  two  volumes.  They  often  show  remark- 
able penetration  in  character  reading  and  unexpectedly  mature 
reflections.     But  the  sheer  facility  of  writing  was  rather  a  snare. 

In  the  second  period,  from  1778  to  1786,  we  get  a  far  more 
elaborate  account  of  her  pursuits  and  her  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances. The  two  outstanding  features  of  this  section  of  the 
diary  are  the  pubhcation  of  Evelina  and  her  friendship  with  Dr. 
Johnson.  She  begins  1778  with  the  following  announcement  in 
her  facetious  manner : 

This  year  was  ushered  in  by  a  grand  and  most  important  event  !  At  the 
latter  end  of  January  the  literary  world  was  favoured  with  the  first  publication 
of  the  ingenious  learned  and  most  profound  Fanny  Burney  !  I  doubt  not 
but  this  memorable  affair  will  in  future  times  mark  the  period  whence  chrono- 
logers  will  date  the  zenith  of  the  polite  arts  in  this  island. 

As  the  whole  business  of  writing  and  pubhcation  had  been 
done  secretly  without  even  the  knowledge  of  her  father  she  was 
naturally  inchned  at  first  to  treat  the  whole  thing  as  a  huge  joke. 


FANNY  BURNEY  175 

But  the  immediate  unexpected  and  amazing  success  of  her  first 
novel  must  have  gone  far  to  turn  her  head,  and  in  her  diary  she 
records  every  possible  reference  to  it,  and  all  the  multifarious 
accidents  and  incidents  connected  with  her  discovered  authorship. 
Not  only  do  we  have  every  word  uttered  by  Dr.  Johnson  on  the 
subject,  Burke's  praise,  Sheridan's  appreciation,  and  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds'  all  night  sitting  over  it,  but  the  comment  of  every 
one  she  meets  is  recorded  in  full  for  some  years  after  the 
event.  The  storing  up  of  these  pleasant  and  indeed  very  re- 
markable tributes  to  her  talent  is  one  of  the  surest  proofs  that 
publication  was  very  far  from  Fanny  Burney's  mind  when  she 
began  to  write  her  diary. 

Dr.  Johnson  seems,  more  than  anyone  who  has  ever  lived,  to 
have  had  the  effect  on  people  of  making  them  run  off  and  write 
down  every  word  he  said  and  describe  every  gesture  he  made, 
every  noise  that  came  from  him.  Fanny  Burney,  who  saw  him 
frequently  in  these  years,  concentrated  her  talents  on  recording 
his  sayings  and  habits  and  doings  in  a  way  that  would  have  made 
Boswell  very  envious  had  he  been  able  to  read  her  diary  in  his 
lifetime.  Indeed,  we  gather  from  her  interview  with  him  that 
he  suspected  she  had  some  valuable  material  stored  away  some- 
where. 

"  Yes  madam  " — says  Boswell — "  you  must  give  me  some  of  your  choice 
little  notes  of  the  Doctor's  :  we  have  seen  him  long  enough  upon  stilts  ;  I 
want  to  show  him  in  a  new  light.  Grave  Sam  and  great  Sam  and  Solemn 
Sam  and  learned  Sam — all  these  he  has  appeared  over  and  over.  Now  I 
•  want  to  entwine  a  wreath  of  the  graces  across  his  brow  ;  I  want  to  show  him 
as  gay  Sam,  agreeable  Sam,  pleasant  Sam  ;  so  you  must  help  me  with  some  of 
his  beautiful  billets  to  yourself." 

I  evaded,  declaring  I  had  not  any  stores  at  hand.  He  proposed  a  thousand 
curious  expedients  to  get  at  them  but  I  was  invincible. 

It  was  a  curious  interview,  for  Boswell  proceeded  to  take  out 
of  his  pocket  proofs  of  his  Life  of  Johnson  and  read  them  to 
Miss  Burney  at  the  gates  of  the  Queen's  Lodge  at  Windsor,  with 
a  crowd  gathering  round  them  to  her  embarrassment  and  dismay. 

Her  first  impression  of  Dr.  Johnson  comes  in  her  early  diary 
in  1777: 

In  the  midst  of  this  performance  Dr.  Jolmson  was  annoimced.  He  is 
indeed  very  ill  favoured  ;  is  tall  and  stout ;  but  stoops  terribly  ;  he  is  almost 
bent  double.  His  mouth  is  almost  constantly  opening  and  shutting  as  if  he 
was  chewing.  He  has  a  strange  method  of  frequently  twirling  his  fingers  and 
twisting  his  hands.  His  body  is  in  continual  agitation  see-sawing  up  and 
down  ;  his  feet  are  never  a  moment  quiet ;  and  in  short  his  whole  person  is 
in  perpetual  motion.     His  dress  too  considering  the  times  and  that  he  had 


ire  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

meant  to  put  on  his  best  becomes  being  engaged  to  dine  in  a  large  company- 
was  as  much  out  of  the  common  road  as  his  figure  ;   he  had  a  large  wig,  snuff 
colour  coat  and  gold  buttons  but  no  ruffles  to  his  shirt  doughty  fists  and  black    j 
worsted  stockings. 

Her  frequent  meetings  with  him  in  the  following  years  are  all 
carefully  described.  He  had  a  very  genuine  affection  for  her  and 
she  worshipped  him. 


■•Si 


But  Dr.  Johnson's  approbation  !  It  almost  crazed  me  with  agreeable 
surprise — it  gave  me  such  a  flight  of  spirits  that  I  danced  a  jig  to  Mr.  Crisp 
without  any  preparation,  music  or  explanation. 

A  little  while  ago  I  went  into  the  music  room  where  he  was  tete  d  iete  with 
Mrs.  Thrale,  and  calling  me  to  him  he  took  my  hand  and  made  me  sit  next 
him  in  a  manner  that  seemed  truly  aSectionate.  "  Sir,"  cried  I,  "  I  was  much 
afraid  I  was  going  out  of  your  favour  !  "  "  Why  so  ?  What  should  make  you 
think  so  ?  "  "  Why  I  don't  know — ^my  silence,  I  believe.  I  began  to  fear 
you  would  give  me  up."     "  No,  my  darling  !  my  dear  little  Bumey,  no,  when 

I  give  you  up "     "  \^Tiat  then.  Sir  ?"  cried  Mrs.  Thrale.     "  Why  I  don't 

know  ;   for  whoever  could  give  her  up  would  deserve  worse  than  I  can  say ; 
I  know  not  what  would  be  bad  enough. ' ' 

Mrs.  Thrale  says  Fanny's  modesty  is  really  beyond  bounds  : 

"  That  madam  is  another  wonder  "  answered  my  dear,  dear  Dr.  Johnson 
"  for  modesty  with  her  is  neither  pretence  nor  decorum  ;  'tis  an  ingredient  of 
her  nature  ;  for  she  who  could  part  with  such  a  work  (Evelina)  for  twenty 
poimds,  could  know  so  little  of  its  worth  or  of  her  own  as  to  leave  no  possible 
doubt  of  her  humility." 

Dr.  Johnson  has  been  very  unwell  indeed.  Once  I  was  quite  frightened 
about  him,  but  he  continues  his  strange  disciphne — starving,  mercury, 
opium  ;  and  though  for  a  time  half  demoUshed  by  its  severity,  he  always 
in  the  end  rises  superior  both  to  the  disease  and  the  remedy — which  commonly 
is  the  most  alarming  of  the  two.  His  kindness  for  me  I  think  if  possible  still 
increased  ;  he  actually  bores  everybody  so  about  me  that  the  folks  even  com-  ~ 
plain  of  it.  I  must,  however,  acknowledge  I  feel  but  little  pity  for  their 
fatigue. 

Apart  from  conversations  we  get  Httle  character  sketches  and' 
touches  of  humour. 

Mr.  B. — whose  trite,  settled,  tonish  emptiness  of  discourse  is  a  never  failing 
source  of  laughter  and  diversion. 

Mrs.  Streatfield — she  is  very  lively  and  an  excellent  mimic  and  is  I  think 
as  much  superior  to  the  daughter  in  natural  gifts  as  her  daughter  is  to  her  in 
acquired  ones  ;  and  how  infinitely  preferable  are  parts  without  education  to 
education  without  parts. 

Burke.  He  is  tall,  his  figure  is  noble,  his  air  commanding,  his  address 
graceful,  liis  voice  is  clear,  penetrating,  sonorous  and  powerful ;  his  language 


FANNY  BURNEY  I77 

is  copious  various  and  eloquent,  liis  manners  are  attractive,  his  conversation 
IS  deligntful. 

Mrs.  Siddom.  She  behaved  with  great  propriety  very  calm,  modest  quiet 
and  unaffected.  She  has  a  very  fine  countenance  and  her  eyes  look  both 
mtelhgent  and  soft.  She  has  however  a  steadiness  in  her  manner  and  deport- 
ment by  no  means  engaging. 

In  1786,  through  the  instrumentality  of  Mrs.  Delany,  who  hved 
at  Windsor,  Fanny  was  offered  and  accepted  the  post  of  second 
keeper  of  the  robes  to  Queen  Charlotte  in  succession  to  Mrs 
Haggerdorn,  at  a  salary  of  £200  a  year.     The  section  of  her  diary 
which  covers  the  five  years  during  which  she  held  this  appoint- 
ment IS  the  most  entertaining,  although  it  is  a  record  of  an  im- 
prisonment and  menial  servitude  to  which  she  never  ought  to 
have  been  subjected.     Her  duties  were  to  answer  the  royal  bell 
early  m  the  mormng  and  help  the  Queen  to  dress.     The  curling 
and  powdering  of  her  Majesty's  hair  also  occupied  a  great  deal  of 
time.     She  occasionally  read  to  the  Queen,  fiUed  her  snuff  box 
looked  after  the  dog  basket,  and  ran  messages,  but  the  waiting 
and  standing  and  attendance  at  functions  proved  gradually  a 
physical  strain  far  beyond  her  capacity.     She  presided  at  the  tea 
equipage  of  the  equerries-in-waiting  in  the  absence  of  her    col- 
league and  she  had  opportunities  for  intercourse  with  the  princes 
and  princesses.     However  much  she  may  have  grown  to  hate  the 
hte  at  the  end,  she  never  lost  a  rather  pathetic  worship  of  royalty 
towards  whom  her  critical  faculties  are  never  brought  into  play 
They  are  referred  to  as  "  the  sweet  Queen  "  and  "  the  excellent 
Kmg     or     the  most  beloved  of  monarchs,"  and  on  one  occasion 
she  feels  mchned  to  "  tlirow  herself  at  the  King's  feet."     They 
"  condescend  "  and  their  messages  are  always  "gracious  "     The 
diary  which   she  kept  regularly  from   daily  noted   memoranda 
brings  the  royal  atmosphere  at  Windsor  and  Kew  and  occasion- 
ally  at  St.  James's  before  us  with  wonderful  reahsm. 

The  description  of  her  first  meeting  with  George  III  and  the 
Queen  at  Mrs.  Delany's  before  her  appointment  occupies  no  less 
than  twenty-three  printed  pages.  We  can  only  give  a  short 
extract  from  the  conversation  : 

"  Pray  does  Miss  Burney  draw,  too  ?  "  asked  the  King.  The  '  too  '  was 
pronoimced  very  civilly.  ^ 

;;  I  beUeve  not  sir  ''answered  Mrs.  Delany  "  at  least  she  does  not  tell." 
do««  f^ll  ""^^^^^^"f^^g"  that's  nothing!  she  is  not  apt  to  tell ;  she  never 
does  tell,  you  know  !-Her  father  told  me  that  himself.     He  told  me  the 
whole  history  of  her  Evelma.     And  I  shall  never  forget  his  face  when  h! 


178  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

spoke  of  his  feelings  at  first  taking  up  the  book  !     He  looked  quite  frightened, 
just  as  if  he  was  doing  it  that  moment  !     I  never  can  forget  his  face  while  I 

live  !  " 

Then  coming  up  close  to  me  he  said, 

"  But  what  ?    what  ?    how  was  it  ?  " 

"  Sir  ?  "  cried  I,  not  well  imderstanding  him. 

"  How  came  you — ^how  happened  it — what  ?   what  ?  " 

"  I I  only  wrote,  sir,  for  my  own  amusement — only  in  some  odd,  idle 

hours." 

"  But  your  publishing — your  printing — ^how  was  that  ? 

"  That  was  only,  sir,  only  because " 

I  hesitated  most  abominable  not  knowing  how  to  tell  him  a  long  story  and 
growing  terribly  confused  at  these  questions  ;  besides,  to  say  the  truth,  his 
own  "  what  ?  what  ?  "  so  reminded  me  of  those  vile  Probationary  Odes  that 
in  the  midst  of  aU  my  flutter  I  was  really  hardly  able  to  keep  my  countenance. 

The  What  was  then  repeated  with  so  earnest  a  look  that  forced  to  say  some- 
thing I  stanomeringly  answered. 

"  I  thought— sir,  it  would  look  well  in  print !  "  I  do  really  flatter  myself 
this  is  the  siUiest  speech  I  ever  made  !  I  am  qviite  provoked  with  myself  for 
it ;  but  a  fear  of  laughing  made  me  eager  to  utter  anything  and  by  no  means 
conscioiis  till  I  had  spoken  of  what  I  was  saying. 

He  laughed  very  heartily  himself— well  he  might — and  walked  away  to 
enjoy  it  crying  out  "  very  fair  indeed  !   that's  being  very  fair  and  honest." 

The  King  was  invariably  kind  to  her,  and  took  occasion  now 
and  again  to  have  httle  talks  with  her.  Here  is  his  Majesty's 
opinion  on  Shakespeare : 

"  Was  there  ever  "  cried  he  "  such  stufi  as  great  part  of  Shakespeare  ? 
only  one  must  not  say  so  !  But  what  think  you  ?  What?  Is  there  not  sad 
stufi  ?     What  ?— What  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  think  so,  sir,  though  mixed  with  such  excellences  that — — " 

"  Oh,"  cried  he  laughing  good  hvunouredly  "  I  know  it  is  not  to  be  said  ! 
But  it's  true.     Only  it's  Shakespeare  and  nobody  dare  abuse  him." 

Then  he  enumerated  many  of  the  characters  and  parts  of  plays  that  he 
objected  to  ;  and  when  he  had  run  them  over  finished  with  again  laughing  and 
exclaiming, 

"  But  one  should  be  stoned  for  saying  so  !  " 

The  account  the  diarist  gives  of  her  encounter  with  the  King 
in  Kew  Gardens,  when  he  had  not  yet  recovered  from  his  first 
attack  of  insanity,  is,  in  spite  of  its  serio-comic  character,  one 
of  the  most  dramatic  in  the  journal.  She  running  for  her  Hfe, 
the  King  in  hot  pursuit  shouting  after  her,  the  attendants  and 
doctors  bringing  up  the  rear  endeavouring  to  check  the  King. 
Finally  she  stops  and  then  comes  a  flood  of  conversation,  not 
by  any  means  all  of  it  mad. 

What  a  conversation  followed  1  When  he  saw  me  fearless  he  grew  more 
and  more  aUve  and  made  me  walk  close  by  his  side.  .  .  .  Everybody  that  came 
uppermost  in  his  mind  he  mentioned  ;  he  seemed  to  have  such  remams  of  his 


FANNY  BURNEY  179 

flightiness  as  heated  his  imagination  without  deranging  his  reason  and  robbed 
him  of  aU  control  over  his  speech  though  nearly  in  his  perfect  state  of  mind 
as  to  his  opinions. 

Of  "the  sweet  Queen"  whom  she  saw  daily  we  get  a  more 
hnished  portrait,  though  it  is  always  biased  by  the  infatuation 
for  royalty.     Queen  Charlotte  was    kind,   domestic  and    punc- 
tilious and  with  her  full  share  of  royal  inconsiderateness.     But 
o±  all  the  characters  in  this  part,  or  indeed  any  part,  of  the  diary 
there  is  nothing  to  equal  Fanny  Burney's  account  of  her  col- 
league   the  first  keeper  of   the  robes,  Mrs.  Schwellenberg,    de- 
scribed by  Macaulay  as  "  a  hateful  old  toadeater,  as  iUiterate  as 
a  chamber-maid,  as  proud  as  a  whole  German    Chapter,    rude 
peevish,  unable  to  bear  solitude,  unable  to  conduct  herself  with 
common  decency  in  society."     A  series  of  extracts  from  the  diary 
mil  be  the  best  way  of  describing  this  extraordinary  person. 

One  of  the  equerries   mentioned   a  newspaper  paragraph  in 
which  the  Queen's  name  had  appeared.  i-      ^    f 

"  What  for  you  tell  me  that  !  " 

''  Ma'am,  I— I  only  said—  It  is  not  me  ma'am  but  the  newspapers " 

vn,,  Z^^     T  J  ^?,^,^^^^  such  newspapers  ?     I  tell  you  the  same-it  is-what 
you  call — I  don't  hke  such  thing  !  " 

"  But  ma'am " 

ww'  "^°''  T  7^'^'  ^  f '^^*  *^"  5^°"  °^^^'  ^^«^  yo"  ^ame  the  Queen,  it  is 

CoToS      f  T    °'  *^^ ^b"*  ^h«^  i*  i«  the  Queen-I  teU  you  the  same. 
Colonel— It  makes  me— what  you  call— perspire. " 

A  clergyman  offers  to  read  out  to  Mrs.  SchweUenberg  and  asks 
what  he  shall  read  : 

r«n  fn    "  """^"^  "Jl"  ^  '^°''^  ^^""^  ^^*^^g  ^^^t  you  caU  novels,  what  you 

stl-rri"' 'tth  /°"  «^\^f ---I  -gi^t  not  read  such  what  you  caU 
Btun — not  1  !       [this  was  a  hit  at  Fanny]. 

beW  oTJ^  f  T'  ^V^!'^  ^^'^'"'^  "°°"^  ^"^  ^  ^^"gh*  ^  ^°«t  ««^«^«  cold  by 
tWh  thf  1  T  ^l  ir  ^°^  °^  ^y  ''^^  *°  '^^  Mrs.  Schwellenberg 
though  the  sharpest  wind  blew  that  ever  attacked  a  poor  phiz. 

the^w'dlZr'"'  indeed  Mrs.  Schwellenberg  finding  it  expedient  to  have 

attnflp  I  ?7  ^"^t  ""^^^"^  *^"^^  b^«^  ^  ^^^^P  ^ind  wWch  so  painfully 

attacked  my  eyes  that  they  were  inflamed  even  before  we  arrived  L  town 

On  a  subsequent  occasion  Mr.  de  Luc  is  bold  enough  to  put 
the  glass  up.  ®  ^ 

I  telf  fou  Wmf  ^^^'M'  ""^l^^^  inimediate  order.     "  Do  it  Mr.  de  Luc  when 
"  ItTnnfT  '*  •     l^^""  y°"  ^^^^  *°«^  «°ld  you  might  bear  it  !  " 

It  IS  not  for  me  ma'am  but  poor  Miss  Bumey." 


180  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

"  Oh,  poor  Miss  Bumey  might  bear  it  the  same ;  put  it  down  Mr.  de  Luc 
without  I  wiU  get  out  !  It  is  my  coach.  I  will  have  it  selfs  !  I  might  go 
alone  in  it  or  with  one  or  with  what  you  call  nobody  when  I  please  !  "  .  .  . 
.  .  Oh  ver  well  !  when  you  don't  like  it  (sitting  with  her  back  to  the 
horses)  don't  do  it !  What  did  the  poor  Haggerdorn  bear  it  when  the  blood 
was  all  running  down  from  her  eyes." 

On  yet  another  occasion  when  Fanny  put  up  her  muff  as  pro- 
tection in  the  carriage  she  declared  in  a  fury  "  she  never  no 
never  would  trouble  any  won  to  air  with  her  again  but  go  always 
selfs."  When  the  equerries  neglect  all  conversation  with  Mrs. 
Schwellenberg : 

She  protested  that  if  they  did  not  mind  she  would  have  them  no  more  and 
let  them  make  tea  for  themselves.  "  Oh,  yes,  I  will  put  an  end  to  it  !  your 
humble"  servant !  when  they  wont  talk  to  me  they  may  stay  ;  comical  men  • 
they  bin  bears  !  " 

She  kept  frogs. 

••  But  I  can  make  them  croak  when  I  will  when  I  only  go  so  to  my  snufi 
box  knock  knock  knock  they  croak  all  what  I  please." 

When  Fanny  did  not  talk  because  she  was  tired  : 

"  You  tired  !  What  have  you  done  ?  when  I  used  to  do  so  much  more— 
you  tired  ?  What  have  you  to  do  but  to  be  happy  ?  have  you  the  |aces  to 
buy  ->  have  you  the  wardrobe  to  part  ?  have  you,— you  tired  ?  V  eU,  what 
wiU  come  next  when  you  have  every  happiness— you  might  not  be  tired. 
No,  I  can't  bear  it." 

My  coadjutrix  was  now  grown  so  fretful  and  affi-onting  that  though  we  only , 
met  at  dinner  it  was  hard  to  support  her  most  unprovoked  harshness. 

When  at  the  time  of  her  proposed  retirement  Miss  Burney, 
and  her  father  dechned  the  alternative  offer  of  six  months'  holi- 
day, Mrs.  Schwellenberg's  fury  was  boundless. 

A  scene  almost  horrible  ensued  when  I  told  Cerbera  the  offer  was  refused.,1 
She  was  too  much  enraged  for  disguise  and  uttered  the  most  furious  expressions^ 
of  indignant  contempt  at  our  proceedings. 

When  the  final  parting  came  the  old  gorgon  undoubtedly  wasi 

moved : 

She  would  take  no  leave  of  me,  but  wished  me  better  hastily  and  sayii 
we  should  soon  meet  she  hurried  suddenly  out  of  the  room.     P^f  ^^f^^^J 
If  her  temper  were  not  so  irascible  I  reaUy  believe  her  heart  would  be  by  - 
means  wanting  in  kindness. 

After  her  release  she  confesses  in  a  retrospect: 

Poor  Mrs.  SchweUenberg  so  wore,  wasted,  and  tortured  all  my  Uttle  leif 
that  my  time  for  repose  was,  in  fact,  my  time  of  greatest  labour.  -. 


FANNY  BURNEY  18i 

Court  life  is  illustrated  by  many  other  curious  and  interesting 
portraits;  the  extraordinary  Mr.  Turbulent  (her  name  for  the 
Rev.  C.  de  Guiffardiere),  who  occasionally  flings  himself  on  his 
knees  at  her  feet ;  Mr.  Fairly  (Colonel  Stephen  Digby),  with  whom 
she  has  long  conversations  ;  the  facetious  equerry  Colonel  Golds- 
worthy,  the  future  King  William  IV,  of  whom  Schwellenberg 
says,  "Dat  Prince  Villiam— oders  de  Duke  of  Clarence— bin 
raelly  very  merry— oders  vat  you  call  tipsy,"  and  many  other 
people  eminent  and  humble.  The  unutterably  tiresome  court 
ceremonials  and  functions  are  fully  described.  But  in  the  history 
of  court  ritual  surely  the  following  ceremony  is  unique  : 

At  Weymouth.  The  King  bathes  and  with  great  success  ;  a  machine  follows 
the  Royal  one  into  the  sea  filled  with  fiddlers  who  play  "  God  save  the  King  " 
as  His  Majesty  takes  his  plunge. 

The  Queen  gave  Fanny  Burney  tickets  for  the  trial  of  Warren 
Hastings  in  Westminster  Hall.  Here  she  meets  Windham,  and 
the  series  of  conversations  she  records  with  him  as  she  watches 
the  proceedings  are  perhaps  the  most  striking  in  the  journal. 
By  means  of  these  dialogues  she  brings  the  whole  scene  in  detail 
to  our  eyes  with  unconscious  and  yet  perfect  skill.  She  was 
strongly  prejudiced  in  favour  of  Hastings,  and  Windham  was 
one  of  the  Managers  of  the  prosecution.  Curiously  enough 
Fanny  Burney  is  not  even  mentioned  in  Windham's  diary,  though 
he  generally  gives  the  names  of  people  he  meets. 

Of  course  it  never  occurred  to  her  royal  mistress  that  the 
exacting  life  at  court  was  detrimental  to  the  literary  career  of 
the  already  remarkable  authoress.  And  it  came  as  a  painful 
surprise  to  her  Majesty  when  Miss  Burney  and  her  father,  urged 
by  many  friends,  including  Windham,  Walpole,  and  Boswell,  at 
last  decided  on  her  resignation.  At  odd  intervals  she  did  find 
time  to  write,  and  she  tells  us  she  is  at  work  on  her  tragedies. 
Unfavourable  as  the  atmosphere  no  doubt  was,  and  infrequent 
as  the  moments  of  leisure  were  in  a  hfe  of  "  hard  fagging,"  it  is 
far  too  much  to  say  that  her  five  years  of  court  service  per- 
manently damaged  her  literary  career  any  more  than  it  was  per- 
manently damaging  to  her  health,  although  its  continuance 
might  have  been  fatal.  Surely  she  had  collected  enough  copy 
for  many  a  novel,  not  to  say  farce,  in  her  unique  experiences  at 
Windsor  and  Kew. 

Although  this  is  no  place  to  enlarge  on  Fanny  Burney's  literary 
accomplishments,  we  may  note  that  even  in  her  diary  so  long 
as  she  adopts  what  we  may  call  the  "Evelina"  style—pure, 


182  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

fresh,  spontaneous,  slightly  ironical  and  often  witty— she  is  un- 
rivalled. But  time  and  circumstances— not  only  her  confine- 
ment in  the  court,  but  a  desire  to  emulate  heavier  metal  of  the 
Johnsonian  type— produced  a  pomposity,  a  heaviness,  and  a 
pretentiousness  which  ruined  her  published  work  and  can  also 
be  traced  in  her  diary.  The  rather  delicate  growth  of  pure 
imagination  was  not  only  checked  by  circumstances,  but  would 
seem  to  have  been  choked  by  too  excellent  a  memory  and  too 
keen  a  power  of  observation.  These,  however,  were  a  valuable 
equipment  for  diary  writing,  and  that  is  why  the  diary  stands 
first  among  the  productions  from  her  pen. 

After  her  release,  in  which  she  greatly  rejoices,  she  returns 
once  or  twice  to  court.  During  a  short  attendance  at  St.  James's 
she  says  : 

Indeed  I  was  half  dead  with  only  two  days'  and  nights'  exertion.  'Tis 
amazing  how  I  ever  went  through  all  that  is  passed. 

Back  with  her  friends  once  again,  she  travels  about,  and  her 
diary  shows  her  continued  interest  in  people.  At  her  sister's 
house,  which  was  frequented  by  a  group  of  French  exiles,  she 
meets  General  d'Arblay. 

He  seems  to  me  a  true  miUiaire,  franc  et  ZoyoJ— open  as  the  day— warmly    , 
affectionate  to  his  friends— inteUigent  ready  and  amusing  m  conversation 
with  a  great  share  of  gaiete  de  coeur  and  at  the  same  time,  of  nmvete  and  bonne 
foi. 

She  marries  him  in  1793.     From  1801  to  1812  she  was  in  Paris  , 
and  again  during  the  Hundred  Days,  and  she  describes  Brussels  : 
at  the  time  of  the  Battle  of  Waterloo.     The  diary  becomes  inter- 
mittent in  these  later  years,  but  in  Paris  she  writes  very  fuUy, 
and  although  much  of  it  is  interesting,  the  light  touch  has  gone. 
As  Horace  Walpole  said,  "  This  author  knew  the  world  and  pene- 
trated characters  before  she  had  stepped  over  the  threshold ;  . 
and  now  she  has  seen  so  much  of  it  she  has  httle  or  no  penetration 

at  all."  ^         ,        -,       •  4.- 

There  are  no  gems  worth  extracting.     Even  her  descnption 
of  Napoleon  is  commonplace  and  flat.     Towards  the  end  letters 
rather  than  diary  tell  her  story.     Throughout  her  hfe  she  was  J 
a  prolific  letter  writer,  and  her  journal  was  really  a  sort  of  overflow  j 

of  this  habit.  . 

The  journal  is   an  instance  of  hterary  talent,   carrying  the 
diarist  a  good  deal  beyond  what  is  natural  in  diary  writing  and 
overlaying  the  spontaneous  sincerity  of  daily  memoranda  with| 
quite  another  element. 


FANNY  BURNEY  183 

Hogg,  in  his  Life  of  Shelley,  gives  an  amusing  account  of 
Madame  d'Arblay's  voluble  and  egotistical  conversation  and  her 
powers  of  exaggeration.  In  fact,  he  makes  her  out  to  be  an 
intolerable  bore. 

Her  husband,  who  apparently  forsook  her,  died  in  1818,  and 
before  her  own  death,  which  occurred  in  1840,  she  also  lost  her 
son. 

In  her  old  age  Madame  d'Arblay  herself  carefully  arranged 
and  annotated  the  volumes  of  her  diary,  and  consigned  them  to 
her  niece,  Mrs.  Barrett,  the  daughter  of  her  sister  Charlotte,  with 
full  permission  to  publish  them.  This  act  of  the  old  lady  look- 
ing back  on  her  juvenile  adventures  was  very  natural,  even 
though  at  the  time  they  were  written  the  girl  and  young  woman 
had  no  actual  thought  of  reaching  the  pubhc  eye.  The  later 
diaries  were  first  pubUshed  in  1842,  edited  by  Mrs.  Barrett.  Two 
volumes  of  the  early  diaries,  edited  by  Mrs.  A.  R.  Elhs,  were 
pubhshed  in  1889.  In  1904  a  new  edition  of  the  later  diaries 
and  letters  in  six  volumes  was  issued  by  Mr.  Austin  Dobson. 


THE   RIGHT   HON.   WILLIAM  WINDHAM 

WINDHAM'S  diary,  which  he  kept  for  many  years,  is 
disappointing  from  the  point  of  %dew  of  giA^ng  a  picture 
of  his  times  or  of  providing  personal  notes  on  the  host 
of  interesting  people  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  But,  as 
-will  be 'seen,  it  has  rather  a  peculiar  interest  from  the  way  in 
wliich  it  throws  light  on  his  character  and  disposition  and  reveals 
the  inner  working  of  his  mind  and  certain  qualities  of  thought 
which  could  not  have  otherwise  been  discovered  from  his  speeches 
and  letters. 

Born  in  1750,  William  Windham  was  educated  at  Eton  and 
University  College,  Oxford.  After  serving  as  Chief  Secretary  to 
Lord  Northington,  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland,  he  was  returned 
as  member  of  Parliament  for  Norwich  in  1784.  He  remained  in 
alliance  with  the  Whigs  until  the  outbreak  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, when  he  joined  Pitt.  In  1794  he  was  made  Secretary-at- 
War  and  a  privy  councillor.  He  opposed  all  negotiations  for 
peace  with  France  and  lost  his  seat  in  1802.  He  returned  to  the 
House  of  Commons  as  member  for  St.  Mawes,  in  Cornwall,  but 
declined  a  place  in  Pitt's  cabinet  in  1804.  When  the  ministry 
of  "  All  the  Talents  "  was  formed  in  1806  he  became  Secretary 
of  State  for  War  and  the  Colonies.  After  the  two  subsequent 
dissolutions  he  sat  for  the  boroughs  of  New  Romney  and  Higham 
Ferrers  consecutively.  He  died  in  1810  in  consequence  of  an 
operation  necessitated  by  an  accident  and  was  buried  at  Felbrigg, 
his  home  near  Cromer,  for  which  he  had  a  very  special  affection. 
In  1798  he  married  Cecelia  Forest,  but  he  had  no  children. 

A  public  estimate  of  his  political  position  and  character  can  be 
given  in  the  words  of  Earl  Grey,  who  in  the  House  of  Lords  at  the 
time  of  Windham's  death  said :  "It  was  his  misfortune  at 
different  times  to  differ  from  that  distinguished  and  regretted 
character ;  yet  in  the  heat  of  political  disagreement  he  never 
ceased  to  admire  his  many  and  splendid  virtues.  He  was  a 
man  of  great  original  and  commanding  genius  with  a  mind  culti- 
vated with  the  richest  stores  of  intellectual  wealth  and  a  fancy 

184 


THE  RIGHT  HON.   WILLIAM  WINDHAM         185 

winged  to  the  highest  flights  of  a  most  captivating  imagery,  of 
sound  and  spotless  integrity  with  a  warm  spirit  but  a  generous 
heart,  and  of  a  courage  and  determination  so  characteristic  as  to 
hold  him  forward  as  the  strong  example  of  what  the  old  English 
heart  could  effect  and  endure.  He  had  indeed  his  faults,  but 
they  seemed  like  the  skilful  disposition  of  shade  in  works  of  art 
to  make  the  impression  of  his  virtues  more  striking  and  gave 
additional  grandeur  to  the  outline  of  his  character." 

Making  all  due  allowance  for  exaggeration  in  parliamentary 
obituaries  and  the  hyperbole  of  eighteenth  century  periods,  this 
testimonial  shows  us  that  Windham  was  a  man  of  no  small  dis- 
tinction. Another  contemporary  view  of  him  may  be  given 
from  the  pages  of  another  diary.  Fanny  Burney  writes  :  "  He 
is  one  of  the  most  agreeable  spirited  wellbred  and  brilliant  con- 
versers  I  have  ever  spoken  with  ...  a  man  of  family  and  fortune 
a  very  pleasing  though  not  handsome  face  a  very  elegant  figure 
and  an  air  of  fashion  and  vivacity." 

It  is  as  well  to  have  this  outside  estimate  before  us,  because  in 
his  diary  we  see  him  from  an  entirely  different  angle.  It  is  a 
curious  mixture  of  dull  record  and  intimate  self- analysis.  He 
tells  us  very  httle  of  his  political  opinions  and  narrates  no  events 
of  any  special  moment,  and  although  he  associates  with  all  the 
most  interesting  people  of  the  day  he  tells  us,  with  one  exception, 
nothing  whatever  about  them.  Lists  even  of  the  most  eminent 
mortals  are  of  no  sort  of  interest  in  themselves.  But  it  is  tan- 
talizing to  get  so  near  Fox,  Burke,  Pitt,  Grey,  Nelson,  Talleyrand, 
Boswell,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Mrs.  Siddons,  etc.,  etc.,  and  yet 
to  get  no  syllable  of  how  they  looked  or  what  they  said. 

The  one  exception  is  notable.  He  was  a  friend  of  Dr.  John- 
son's. For  him  he  had  a  great  admiration,  and  Dr.  Johnson  un- 
questionably exercised  a  considerable  influence  over  Windham's 
method  and  manner  of  confronting  the  difficulties  of  life.  There 
is  a  note  of  a  conversation  which  took  place  before  Windham 
went  to  Ireland,  that  is  to  say  before  he  kept  a  diary,  in  which  the 
following  sayings  of  the  Doctor  occur  : 

Never  be  afraid  to  think  yourself  fit  for  anything  for  which  your  friends 
think  you  fit. 

You  will  become  an  able  negotiator  ;    a  very  pretty  rascal.  .  .  . 

No  one  in  Ireland  wears  even  the  mask  of  incorruption.  No  one  professes 
to  do  for  sixpence  what  he  can  get  a  shilling  for  doing. 

It  was  undoubtedly  on  Dr.  Johnson's  advice  that  he  began  his 
diary  in  1784.  In  that  year  in  August  we  get  a  very  full  memo- 
randum of  a  conversation  which  took  place  between  them  at  Ash- 


186  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

bourne,  chiefly  on  literary  questions.  On  December  7  he  visits 
him  in  his  bedchamber, 

where  after  placing  me  next  him  on  a  chair  he  sitting  in  his  usual  place  on  the 
east  side  of  the  room  he  put  into  my  hands  two  small  volumes  (an  edition  of 
the  New  Testament)  saying  "  Extremum  hoc  munus  morientis  habeto."  He 
then  proceeded  to  observe  that  I  was  entering  upon  a  life  which  would  lead 
me  deeply  into  all  the  business  of  the  world  ;  that  he  did  not  condemn  civil 
employment  but  that  it  was  a  state  of  great  danger  ;  and  that  he  had  therefore 
one  piece  of  advice  earnestly  to  impress  upon  me — that  I  would  set  apart 
every  seventh  day  for  the  care  of  my  soul ;  that  one  day,  the  seventh,  should 
be  employed  in  repenting  what  was  amiss  in  the  six  preceding  and  for  fortifying 
my  virtue  for  the  six  to  come  ;  that  such  a  portion  of  time  was  surely  little 
enough  for  the  meditation  of  eternity. 

After  recommending  his  servant  to  him  and  asking  Windham 
to  be  his  protector,  Johnson  expresses  an  emphatic  opinion  in 
favour  of  revealed  religion  and  his  reasons  for  accepting  all  the 
evidence  in  support  of  it.  Five  days  later  the  diary  records 
another  visit  in  which  Windham  urges  him  to  take  nourishment, 
but  Johnson  dismisses  the  subject  with  "  It  is  all  very  childish ; 
let  us  hear  no  more  of  it."  Later  in  the  day  they  have  this  last 
interview : 

I  then  said  that  I  hoped  he  would  forgive  my  earnestness — or  something 
to  that  effect ;  when  he  replied  eagerly  "  that  from  me  nothing  would  be 
necessary  by  way  of  apology  "  adding  with  great  fervour,  in  words  which  I 
shall  {I  hope)  never  forget  "  God  bless  you,  my  dear  Windham,  through 
Jesus  Christ  "  ;  and  concluding  with  a  wish  that  we  might  meet  in  some 
humble  portion  of  that  happiness  which  God  might  finally  vouchsafe  to 
repentant  sinners.  These  were  the  last  words  I  ever  heard  him  speak.  I 
hurried  out  of  the  room  with  tears  in  my  eyes  and  more  affected  than  I  had 
been  on  any  former  occasion. 

Windham  began  diary  writing  in  1784  and  continued  it  prac- 
tically to  the  end  of  his  life.  On  several  occasions  he  deplores 
his  failure  to  write  regularly,  and  we  gather  quite  clearly  from 
these  entries  the  underlying  motive  which  made  him  keep  a 
diary  at  all.     In  1789  he  says  : 

I  have  no  reason  to  alter  the  judgment  given  in  the  outset  of  the  last  volimae 
that  this  practice  of  journal  writing  leads  one  insensibly  into  a  habit  of  com- 
position, strengthens  the  powers  of  recollection  and  by  showing  how  one's 
time  is  actually  disposed  of  suggests  the  means  and  excites  the  desire  of 
disposing  of  it  to  greater  advantage. 

And  again  in  1791  : 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  I  have  not  by  a  more  regular  observa,nce  of  the 
practice  of  journal  writing  ascertained  the  extent  to  which  this  habit  has  been 


THE  RIGHT  HON.   WILLIAM  WINDHAM         187 

parried.  It  is  more  to  be  regretted  that  a  habit  known  at  all  times  to  be  so 
salutary  and  now  found  to  be  so  easily  practicable  should  not  have  been  begtm 
years  and  years  ago.  What  a  difference  it  would  have  made  at  the  time  ! 
What  a  difference  it  would  have  made  in  my  present  condition  and  in  all  the 
future  fortune  of  my  life  !  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  to  this  single  cir- 
cumstance considering  the  way  in  which  habits  propagate  each  other,  the 
whole  difference  may  be  ascribed  of  my  being  something  or  nothing. 

In  fact,  he  regarded  keeping  a  diary  as  an  intellectual  and 
moral  exercise.  He  records  his  intellectual  pursuits,  and  notes 
the  books  he  reads.  The  scope  of  his  studies  was  immense ;  he 
wrote  often  in  Latin,  and  many  of  the  authors  he  refers  to  are  very 
obscure.  Besides  Pluto,  Livy,  Thucydides,  Horace,  Erasmus, 
Voltaire,  Rousseau,  Condorcet,  we  find  him  absorbed  in  Lucan, 
Petavius,  Scoppius,  Thuanus,  Themistius,  Heliodorus,  Phalereus, 
etc.  Every  moment  his  mind  appears  to  have  been  occupied 
with  deep  intellectual  exercises.  We  read,  for  instance,  many 
entries  such  as  these : 

Dr.  Parr  lent  me  to  take  in  the  chaise  a  treatise  of  Andronicus  Rhodius  as 
also  one  of  Pletho. 

While  I  was  dressing  added  a  line  or  two  to  the  Latin  poem  I  was  meditating. 

From  eight  till  ten  have  been  completing  the  conspectus  of  the  books  "  De 
Sectione  "  tiU  twenty  before  one  :  finished  with  great  attention  and  great 
comfort  the  formulae  extracted  from  Guignee  for  the  construction  of  quadratic 
equations. 

In  my  pocket  besides  the  voliune  of  Livy  I  had  been  reading  I  took  with  me 
the  collections  of  Greek  epigrams  with  translations  and  begun  a  version  with 
happy  success. 

At  breakfast  or  dinner  I  have  generally  made  her  {his  niece)  read  some  of 
Plutarch's  Apothegms  to  me. 

My  thoughts  during  the  drive  were  employed  in  settling  the  question  relative 
to  the  pressure  of  fluids. 

Set  off  by  eleven ;   read  Aristotle  with  little  intermission  all  the  way. 

Went  to  bed  about  one  after  beginning  Spanish  grammar. 

Mathematics  were  his  special  hobby.  He  not  only  spends 
hours  in  studying  them,  but  makes  calculations  in  his  head  at 
odd  moments. 

Tried  an  instance  of  multiplication  in  my  head  ;  the  problem  required  a 
sum  of  4  places  into  1  of  3.  I  executed  it  without  mistake  in  little  less  than 
ten  minutes. 

A  fall  of  rain  and  snow  made  my  ride,  both  from  the  cold  and  uneasiness  of 
the  storm  against  my  face,  as  unpleasant  as  any  I  recollect  to  have  had.  I 
continued  notwithstanding  to  keep  my  mind  tolerably  well  abstracted  and 


188  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

concluded  a  verse  or  two  in  some  epigrams  I  was  translating  and  settled  a 
question  about  the  increments  of  logarithms. 

While  sitting  for  his  portrait  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  he  multi- 
plies 6824  by  2632. 

He  watches  himself,  disciplines  himself,  analyses  his  powers 
of  concentration,  the  effect  on  him  of  interruptions,  of  company, 
of  sohtude,  and  he  constantly  blames  himself  for  not  doing 
enough — "  I  tremble  lest  my  powers  of  thought  are  not  what 
they  ought  to  be."  He  is  in  fear  at  times  of  "  a  decline  of  facul- 
ties," and  when  he  finds  himself  going  into  society  more  often 
he  notes  "  circumstances  altogether  new  and  alarming."  The 
very  common  failing  of  forgetting  a  name  fills  him  "  with  the 
most  alarming  apprehensions."  He  fears  "  a  decay  of  faculties," 
and  at  great  length  examines  the  causes  of  the  phenomenon  and 
notes  down  instances  of  failure  in  recollection  whenever  they 
occur.  Sometimes  he  seems  to  fear  that  his  intellectualism  is 
of  a  too  narrow  and  arid  character. 

My  information  goes  no  further  than  my  studies  and  all  that  knowledge 
which  is  floating  in  the  world  and  which  to  a  mind  properly  prepared  affords 
its  chief  nourishment  has  been  wholly  lost  to  me  :  kept  off  by  negligence  on 
the  one  hand  and  a  perverse  fancy  on  the  other  :  and  1  eaving  me  like  some 
exotic  in  a  greenhouse,  to  the  precarious  and  imperfect  supply  of  art. 

His  self-depreciation  arises  from  an  exaggerated  humility,  but 
it  is  quite  genuine. 

This  habit  of  indecision  if  some  means  are  not  found  to  stop  its  progress 
and  abate  its  malignity  will  corrupt  and  eat  away  my  imderstanding  to  the 
very  core  ;  it  wastes  my  time,  consumes  my  strength,  converts  comfort  into 
vexation  and  distress,  deprives  me  of  various  pleasures  and  involves  me  in 
innumerable  difficulties.  Some  canon  must  be  framed  for  proceeding  in  such 
cases. 

My  habits  of  thought  are  not  quite  what  they  ought  to  be  but  I  tremble 
lest  my  powers  of  thought  are  not  what  they  ought  to  be.  I  certainlj^  have 
continually  alarming  instances  to  confirm  the  fears  first  conceived  during  the 
course  of  the  preceding  Summer. 

Jovuney  would  have  been  comfortable  if  I  had  not  been  tormented  and 
depressed  by  recollection  of  my  own  folly. 

His  low  opinion  of  himself  comes  out  more  particularly  in  the 
references  to  his  speeches  in  Parliament.  He  had  a  very  high 
standard,  and  seems  hardly  ever  to  have  been  satisfied  with  his 
efforts.  The  testimony  of  his  contemporaries,  however,  shows 
that  he  very  greatly  underrated  his  powers.  Lord  Lansdowne 
thought  he  had  the  best  parliamentary  address  of  any  man  he 


THE  RIGHT  HON.   WILLIAM  WINDHAM  189 

had  ever  seen,  and  Lord  Chief  Justice  Denman  declared  unhesita- 
tingly that  Windham's  speech  on  the  Law  of  Evidence  was  the 
best  speech  he  had  heard  during  his  life.  Pitt,  too,  declared 
that  his  speeches  were  the  finest  productions  possible  of  warm 
imagination  and  fancy. 

Windham's  constant  misgivings  with  regard  to  his  own  powers 
may  be  best  illustrated  by  the  following  extracts  : 

1785.  The  heat  of  the  House  disordered  my  faculties  and  enfeebled  my 
powers  and  brought  on  a  state  of  inabiUty  from  wliich  I  could  never  recover 
sufficiently  to  venture  to  rise. 

I  thought  my  performance  inferior  and  conceived  others  thought  so  too. 
...  It  was  a  mere  effusion  and  though  delivered  in  a  forcible  and  perhaps 
gracefid  manner  contained  nothing  more  than  anyone  would  have  thought 
of  in  conversation. 

1786.  Tempted  to  speak  on  an  incidental  point  in  the  debate  and  succeeded 
so  ill  where  I  think  I  might  have  succeeded  so  well  ...  I  am  afraid  what  I 
said  was  awkwardly  and  cvunbrously  stated. 

1 793.  Resolved  to  speak  and  succeeded  fortunately  in  some  parts  beyond 
what  I  had  reason  to  expect. 

Made  speech  (a  singularly  bad  one)  on  Fox's  motion. 

1798.  My  infatxiation  in  not  speaking  exceeds  all  that  I  have  ever  known 
in  myself  or  could  conceive.  .  .  .  The  loss  to  me  is  something  incalculable 
and  my  regret  is  such  as  I  know  not  what  to  do  with  myself.  It  breaks  my 
slimibers  and  makes  me  incapable  of  doing  anything. 

1799.  Spoke  following  Sheridan  ;  naissed  and  mismanaged  a  good  many 
things. 

1800.  Though  rising  without  embarrassment  and  no  distrust  of  myself 
somehow  or  other  got  confused  and  bewildered  and  in  consequence  prolix. 

1805.  Day  of  my  motion.  Spoke  I  am  afraid  tln-ee  hom-s  and  a  half  ; 
"  o'erflowing  but  not  full." 

1810.  Spoke  after  Huskisson.  Well  satisfied  not  because  everything  very 
good  in  what  I  said  but  from  a  feel  of  power  in  myself  in  saying  it. 

His  health  occupies  him  from  time  to  time,  and  he  analyses 
elaborately  his  symptoms,  the  exact  effect  on  him  of  early  rising 
or  staying  in  bed,  the  state  of  his  digestive  organs  when  dining 
alone  compared  with  a  dinner  in  company,  the  "  alarming  symp- 
toms "  brought  about  by  low  spirits,  the  effect  on  his  stomach  of 
tea,  chocolate,  and  porter,  and  his  giddiness,  lumbago,  and  nose 
bleeding. 

His  entries  with  regard  to  his  official  work  are  rare  and  gener- 
ally quite  perfunctory  and  dull.     As  he  gets  more  and  more 


190  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

absorbed  by  his  official  duties  the  diary  becomes  more  scrappy, 
a  mere  register  of  the  people  he  met  and  of  his  movements. 

One  might  expect  from  all  this  that  this  rather  pedantic  but 
modest  scholar  never  unbent  and  was  of  a  uniformly  serious  if 
not  melancholy  disposition.  It  is,  therefore,  with  surprise  that 
we  come  upon  entries  of  this  description : 

After  tea  I  grew  into  spirits  more  than  ordinary  so  as  to  make  me  dance  and 
sing  about  the  room.  .  .  . 

My  spirits  may  be  said  in  fact  to  be  over  good  for  instead  of  pressing  me 
forward  to  vigorous  application  they  have  broken  out  in  singing  and  dancing, 
[He  sings  "  Viene  o  caro  "  but  declares  his  voice  is  harsh  and  feeble  and  pro- 
ceeds to  a  diagnosis  of  the  causes.] 

It  was  here  Mr.  Barkes  bedroom  was  adjoining  to  mine  and  that  I  apprehend 
that  he  must  have  overheard  me  singing.     I  went  to  bed  in  great  spirits. 

Here,  too,  is  a  sidelight  on  the  dignified  legislators  of  those 
times  : 

The  debate  lasted  till  half  past  seven.  In  our  way  from  the  House  we  were 
boyish  enough  to  amuse  ourselves  with  throwing  stones  at  each  other  during 
our  progress  through  the  Park  and  oranges  when  we  came  into  St,  James's 
street. 

To  trace  further  the  hghter  and  more  frivolous  side  of  Wind- 
ham's character  we  find  that  he  was  a  devotee  of  prize  fighting 
and  gives  far  more  vivid  accounts  of  the  "  battles  "  he  sees  than 
of  any  debates  in  Parhament  and  breaks  into  critical  descriptions 
of  the  combatants  such  as  we  never  get  of  his  pohtical  colleagues. 
Even  on  his  way  to  Council  he  "  took  this  opportunity  of  steahng 
to  see  a  battle  of  which  I  had  just  had  notice,"  He  was  too  a 
constant  playgoer  and  had  a  great  admiration  for  Mrs.  Siddons, 
with  whom  he  exchanged  several  letters. 

Drove  to  Mrs.  Siddons'  in  order  to  communicate  a  hint  on  a  passage  in  Lady 
Macbeth  which  she  was  to  act  the  next  night. 

After  the  play  went  with  Miss  Kemble  to  Mrs.  Siddons'  dressing-room  : 
met  Sheridan  there  with  whom  I  sat  in  the  waiting  room  and  who  pressed  me 
to  sup  at  his  house  with  Fox  and  North. 

Mrs.  Siddons  did  RosaUnd  much  better  than  the  first  time  but  not  equal  to 
her  tragedy  ;  there  is  a  want  of  hilarity  in  it ;  it  is  just  but  not  easy.  The 
highest  praise  that  can  be  given  to  her  comedy  is  that  it  is  the  perfection  of 
art ;   but  her  tragedy  is  the  perfection  of  nature. 

Opera  for  the  first  time.  Dance  of  Bacchus  and  Ariadne.  We  have 
advanced  to  the  point  of  seeing  people  dance  naked. 


THE  RIGHT  HON.   WILLIAM  WINDHAM         191 

Balloons  were  among  the  curious  things  which  occupied  his 
thoughts  in  the  earher  days  : 

Did  not  rise  till  past  nine  :  from  that  time  till  eleven  did  little  more  than 
indulge  in  idle  reveries  about  balloons. 

The  greater  part  of  the  time  tiU  now  one  o'clock  spent  in  foolish  reveries 
about  balloons. 

Went  home  with  Horsley  to  whom  I  showed  my  idea  about  balloons. 

At  last  he  goes  up  in  one  himself  and  expresses  his  satisfaction 
in  a  very  elaborate  way,  not  at  the  conduct  of  the  balloon,  but 
at  his  own  conduct  in  being  quite  unimpressed  by  any  sensation 
of  danger  or  apprehension.  Dr.  Burney  mentions  Windham's 
"  Balloon  Diary  "  in  one  of  his  letters  to  his  daughter. 

But  Windham's  lighter  moments  form  only  a  very  occasional 
relief  to  his  habitual  seriousness. 

In  1790  he  makes  reflections  on  his  loneliness  : 

I  felt  that  strong  sense  of  the  unhappiness  of  my  own  celibacy — that  lively 
conception  of  pleasure  I  had  lost — that  gloomy  apprehension  of  the  conviction 
which  I  should  feel  of  this  hereafter  clouding  aU  my  prospects,  relaxing  all 
my  motives  and  in  an  especial  manner  destroying  all  enjoyment. 

He  marries  in  1798.  But  the  fact  is  only  recorded  quite  baldly, 
and  we  get  no  intimate  details  with  regard  to  his  domestic  re- 
lationships. Nor  was  the  diary  kept  for  recording  the  critical 
pubhc  events  through  which  he  hved,  although  they  must  of 
course  have  absorbed  a  large  amount  of  his  attention.  He  writes 
far  less  regularly  in  later  years,  but  when  he  does  write  the  entries 
consist  of  bare  records  of  dinners,  meetings,  journeys,  inter- 
spersed with  self-disciphnary  resolutions  with  regard  to  the  dis- 
position of  his  time.  For  instance,  the  year  of  the  outbreak  of 
the  French  Revolution,  we  only  get  three  bald  and  uninteresting 
references  to  it. 

In  1793  he  goes  over  to  France  and  is  conducted  actually  into 
the  trenches  : 

It  was  not  without  anxiety  that  I  ventured  into  a  situation  so  new  and 
untried  as  that  in  which  I  was  about  to  enter.  It  was  impossible  to  tell  the 
effect  of  circumstances  which  have  been  found  occasionally  to  operate  so 
strangely  on  minds  not  distinguishable  beforehand  from  the  rest  of  the  world. 
How  could  I  be  certain  that  the  same  might  not  happen  to  me  as  happened  to 
certain  persons  that  one  knows  of.  .  .  .  The  result  of  the  trial  answered  I 
am  happy  to  say  to  my  most  sanguine  expectations.  I  think  with  confidence 
that  during  any  part  of  the  time  I  could  have  multiplied  if  necessary  a  sum  in 
my  head. 


192  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

In  June,  1810,  Windham  underwent  the  operation  which 
caused  his  death.  The  last  entry  in  the  manuscript  diary  runs : 
"  This  day  sentence  has  been  passed  upon  me."^ 

The  diary  may  be  dull  reading  for  anyone  who  expects  enter- 
tainment;  it  is  of  little  value  to  students  of  history,  and  we 
must  go  elsewhere  for  knowledge  of  Windham's  career.  But 
from  the  psychological  point  of  view  it  has  interest,  for  it  reveals 
the  careful  endeavours  at  self-regulation  and  self-mastery  of  a 
man  who  might  easily  have  been  supposed  to  be  solely  engrossed 
in  the  affairs  of  State  or  in  the  scholastic  studies  for  which  he 
was  noted. 

Referring  to  Windham's  diary,  Lord  Rosebery  says  :  "  Un-  ' 
happily  he  was  fated  to  be  something  of  a  suicide  for  he  dealt 
an  almost  mortal  blow  to  his  owai  reputation.  For  we  cannot 
doubt  that  it  would  have  stood  much  higher  but  for  his  diary. 
And  yet  he  liimself  set  store  by  it  as  if  one  would  think  he  regarded 
it  as  a  sure  base  for  his  future  fame  .  .  .  any  judicious  friend  would 
have  put  it  without  hesitation  behind  the  fire."^ 

We  are  inchned  to  think  this  is  altogether  too  severe.  If  only 
th^  enhancement  of  a  reputation  and  the  further  embellishment 
of  Windham's  charms  and  spectacular  talents  are  required,  the 
diary  undoubtedly  is  no  help.  But  if  a  closer  knowledge  of  the 
man  is  what  we  seek,  his  own  self-exposure  prompted  by  his 
"  irritable  conscience  "  gives  us  just  the  unexpected  shadows  and 
relief  which  help  to  make  the  portrait  far  more  Hving  than  those 
which  are  generally  provided  in  the  case  of  pubhc  men  by  ex- 
terior estimates,  however  elaborate  they  may  be. 

Extracts  from  the  diary  were  pubhshed  in  1866  by  Mrs.  Henry 
Baring.  Greville,  who  examined  the  manuscript,  says  there 
were  twenty-eight  volumes.  We  can  judge  by  this  that  a  great 
deal  has  been  cut. 


1  Quoted  in  Lady  Holland's  Journal,  Vol.  II,  p.  255. 

2  Miscellanies — Literary  and  Historical,  by  Lord  Rosebery. 


EIGHTEENTH   CENTURY 

MINOR  DIARIES 
MARY,   COUNTESS  COWPER 

LORD    COWPER   was   Lord   Chancellor    in   the   reign    of 
George  I.     He  married  Mary  Clavering  in  1706,  for  some 
/unknown  reason,  secretly.     In  1714  she  became  a  Lady 
ot  the  Bedchamber  to  the  Princess  of  Wales  (Carohne  of  Anspach) 
and  began  to  keep  a  diary  of  her  court  experiences.     The  diary 
or  rather  what  remains  of  it,  covers  four  years  up  to  1716,  and 
after  a  break  there  are  some  scattered  entries  of  the  year  1720 
There  is  nothing  in  the  diary  but  court  gossip,  intrigue   and 
scandal,  but  Lady  Cowper  writes  in  a  very  hvely  and  miconven- 
tional  style.     She  begins  : 

The  perpetual  Lies  that  One  hears  have  determined  me.  in  spite  of  my  want 
am  atTourt  """^^  ^"""^  ^"  *^^  ^""^"^^^  ^^^^  ^""^  ^""^^^  remembering  while  I 

She  says,  further,  that  she  intends  it  only  for  her  own  use,  a 
rough  draft  which  "  I  intend  hereafter  to  revise  and  digest  into  a 
better  Method." 

_    The  entries  are  irregular,  sometimes  daily,  sometimes  at  longer 
mtervals,  but  always  giving  the  fresh  impression  of  the  moment 
Here  is  a  sample  of  her  manner  of  recording  the  day's  doings : 

1714.     Nov  21.     I  went  to  Chapel  which  concluded  the  service  of  my  Week. 
I  received  a  thousand  Marks  of  my  Mistress's  Favour,  as  embracLg  me, 

E.r^  Week  of  Wax  mg  was  so  near  out.  I  am  so  charmed  with  her  good 
Nature  and  good  Quahties  that  I  shall  never  think  I  can  do  enough  to  please 
mT^t  l^J^r^  T  ^^«^^g  ^^^^^^^1/  true  and  just  to  her  will  be  any  Means  to 
ne^r  tn  t!ir'?'-  '^^^^^T:  '*'  ^°^'  ^  ^"^  ^'^^^  ^^*«  *^^«  C°^rt  with  Resolution 
more  ronfii  '    w  T  ^°P"  ^  ^^  '^^  S°°^  ^^^^*^  °f  i*  for  she  reposes 

TZ^f  T^  '""  Z^^\^  ^^^  '^^"^  ^^  ^^y  °<^*^«^-«  "Po^  that  very  Account. 
A  great  Bustle  was  heard  this  Day  at  the  Chapel.     It  was  the  Countess  of 


193 


194  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Nottingham  who  was  going  out  before  Church  was  done  (like  a  true  High 
ChurchWoman)  to  take  her  Place  behind  the  Princess's  Chair-back  in  the 
Drawing  room  preferring  to  make  her  Coxirt  to  an  earthly  rather  than  to  a 
heavenly  Power.  I  was  ill  from  standing  so  long  upon  my  Feet  for  which 
Reason  I  did  undress  me  as  soon  as  I  came  Home  and  stayed  within  for  two 
Days  to  recover  myself. 

Her  character  sketches  are  not  always  very  charitable.  Here  is 
a  description  of  one  of  her  colleagues  : 

The  Duchess  of  Shrewsbtiry  had  some  extraordinary  Talents  and  it  was 
impossible  to  hate  her  so  much  as  her  Lord,  though  she  was  engaged  in  the  same 
ill  Design.  She  had  a  wonderful  Art  at  entertaining  and  diverting  People, 
though  she  would  sometimes  exceed  the  Bounds  of  Decency.  She  had  a 
great  memory,  had  read  a  good  deal  and  spoke  three  languages  to  Perfection  ; 
but  then  with  all  her  Prate  and  Noise  she  was  the  most  cunning  designing 
woman  alive. 

George  I,  who  speaks  to  her  in  French,  was  apparently  capable 
of  making  jokes  : 

I  never  saw  the  King  in  better  Humour  than  this  night.  He  said  a  World 
of  sprightly  Things.  ; 

Her  family  pester  her  to  get  them  soft  sinecure  jobs.  Her 
brother-in-law  wants  to  be  put  in  "  the  Commission  of  the  Salt 
Office,"  so  does  her  uncle ;  her  cousin  pleads  to  get  into  "  the 
Wine  License  "  and  her  aunt  asks  for  "  a  place  about  the  Princess," 
and  "  high  words  "  arise  because  she  cannot  please  them  all. 
The  German  and  EngUsh  elements  in  the  court  do  not  always 
appear  to  have  hit  it  off : 

Countess  of  Buckenburgh  said  that  the  English  women  did  not  look  like 
Women  of  QuaUty  but  made  themselves  look  as  pitiftzlly  and  sneakingly  as 
they  covild ;  that  they  hold  their  Heads  down  and  look  always  in  a  Fright 
whereas  those  that  are  Foreigners  hold  up  their  Heads  and  hold  out  their 
Breasts  and  make  themselves  look  as  great  and  stately  as  they  can,  and  more 
nobly  and  more  Uke  Quality  than  the  others.  To  wliich  Lady  Deloraine 
replied  :  "  We  show  our  Quality  by  our  Births  and  Titles,  Madam,  and  not 
by  sticking  out  our  Bosoms." 

Lady  Cowper  becomes  exasperated  by  the  tiresome  attentions 
of  Mademoiselle  Schutz,  a  niece  of  Baron  Bemstorff's,  the  most 
prominent  of  the  King's  German  Ministers. 

Mademoiselle  Schutz  is  a  very  urureasonable  Body  and  would  take  no  Hints 
I  wished  to  be  alone. 

I  had  a  letter  from  Mademoiselle  Schutz  to  ofier  to  come  to  stay  with  me 
all  Day.  I  thank  her  for  Nothing.  I  had  too  much  of  her  Impertinence  last 
Night. 


MARY,   COUNTESS  COWPER  195 

She  tries  to  borrow  Lady  Cowper's  jewels,  she  insists  on  accom- 
panying her  to  Court,  she  is  "  always  upon  the  Spunge  "  ;  in 
fact  she  seems  to  have  been  difficult  to  shake  off,  and  apparently 
was  not  a  beauty. 

Mademoiselle  Schutz  is  sitting  for  her  Picture  to  one  Constantine  a  French 
Refugee  ;  'tis  most  horridly  done  and  so  tmfortunately  like,  that  Anybody 
may  know  it  and  yet  the  ugliest  Thing  in  the  World. 

Lady  Cowper  is  sometimes  entrusted  with  important  errands 
to  such  people  as  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  others,  but 
for  the  most  part  all  she  records  is  court  pohtics  ;  and  the  strained 
relationship  between  the  King  and  the  Prince  and  the  attempts 
at  reconciliation  form  the  chief  theme  of  many  of  her  entries. 
Judging  by  some  of  the  remarks  she  notes  down  in  1720,  she  her- 
self seems  to  have  fallen  out  of  favour. 

Of  herself  Lady  Cowper  tells  us  practically  nothing.  It  would 
almost  seem  as  if  she  thought  incidents  connected  with  the  court 
were  suitable  material  for  a  diary,  but  domestic  affairs  were  too 
intimate  to  write  about.  Nevertheless,  we  can  detect  something 
of  her  devotion  to  her  husband,  whom  she  refers  to  as  "  the  dear 
fellow  "  when  she  writes  in  1716. 

My  Lord  still  ill.  I  am  out  of  my  Wits  to  see  him  suffer  which  I  declare 
IS  ten  times  worse  than  Death  to  me,  and  would  rather  live  with  him  all  my 
Life  on  Bread  and  Cheese  up  three  Pair  of  Stairs  than  be  all  this  World  can 
make  me  and  at  the  same  Time  see  him  suffer. 

She  writes  a  little  prayer  once  on  her  birthday  ;  she  mentions 
sermons,  one  of  them  "intolerably  Dull  to  the  Degree  of  an 
Opiate."  She  goes  to  the  play  frequently.  Here  is  her  account 
of  taking  the  Princess  to  see  Betterton's  "  The  Wanton  Wife  "  : 

_  Went  to  the  Play  with  my  Mistress  ;  and  to  my  great  Satisfaction  she  liked 
It  as  well  as  any  Play  she  had  seen  ;  and  it  certainly  is  not  more  obscene 
than  all  Comedies  are.  It  were  to  be  wished  our  Stage  was  chaster  ;  and  I 
cannot  but  hope  now  it  is  ;mder  Mr.  Steel's  Direction  it  will  mend. 

George  I  had  appointed  Steele  to  the  curious  office  of  "  Surveyor 
of  the  Royal  Stables  and  Governor  of  the  King's  Comedians." 

Lord  Cowper  resigned  his  office  in  1720,  and  the  various  incidents 
connected  with  his  resignation  come  in  for  notice  with  all  the  other 
intrigues.  He  died  in  1723,  and  his  wife  died  three  months  later 
at  the  age  of  39. 

Lady  Cowper  writes  with  such  complete  naturalness  and  so 
obviously  without  a  thought  of  pubHcation  (as,  for  instance,  when 
she  starts  an  entry  "  Bit  in  the  Night— I'm  afraid  by  a  Bug  ") 


196  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

that,  although  the  Diary  contains  nothing  of  great  importance, 
one  gets  a  very  good  idea  of  the  atmosphere  of  the  early  Georgian 
court. 

THOMAS  MARCHANT 

THOMAS  IVIARCHANT,  of  Little  Park,  Hurstpierpoint, 
Sussex,  kept  a  diary  from  September  29, 1714,  to  June  26, 
1728,  with  two  breaks,  one  of  five  months,  the  other  of 
nearly  four  years.  The  entries  are  irregular,  occasionally  only 
half  a  dozen  occurring  in  one  month.  They  are  generally  very 
brief.  It  may  be  included  as  an  instance  of  a  fairly  full  diary 
which  is  exclusively  confined  to  a  record  of  occupations,  business 
and  events.  From  the  psychological  point  of  view  it  has  httle 
interest,  nevertheless  it  gives  some  picture  of  the  hfe  of  an  inde- 
pendent yeoman  farmer  of  the  time,  and  is  not  without  value  as  a 
contemporary  illustration  of  manners  and  customs. 

Marchant,  in  addition  to  his  agricultural  pursuits,  was  a  fresh- 
water fish  trader,  and  he  gives  many  details  with  regard  to  the 
stocking  of  his  ponds.  He  also  registers  his  various  payments 
and  purchases.  On  one  or  two  occasions  he  "  drank  too  much  " 
or  "  drank  enough,"  but  these  occasional  excesses  do  not  trouble 
him.  He  frequently  misses  Sunday  church,  "  having  a  bad  head- 
ache." There  are  many  single-hne  entries,  some  of  which  are 
curious  as  showing  what  he  thought  worth  recording.    For  instance : 

1715.  Jan.  14.     My  son  John  began  his  accidence. 

March  15.  Paid  my  Uncle  Courtness  15d  for  a  small  bottle  of  Dafiy's 
Ehxir. 

Sep.  30.     We  had  a  dish  of  green  peas  for  dinner  to-day. 

1716.  Jan.  30.     Paid  Ball  2s  for  a  bottle  of  Brandy. 

Dec.  15.  Paid  J.  Parsons  Is  for  shaving  my  head  and  tying  my  wig  two 
or  three  times. 

1717.  Dec.  20.     Ben  Shove  went  to  Lewes  for  a  bottle  of  claret. 

1718.  Jan.  31.     The  mountebank  still  here. 
1722.     Aug.  13.     Nanny  sick  with  the  measles. 
26.     Kitty  the  same. 

29.     Molly  Balcombe  the  same. 

1728.  Jan.  19.  A  very  wet  day.  Did  nothing  but  eat  and  drink  and  sit 
by  the  fire  aU  day  and  hard  work  I  found  it. 

He  always  refers  to  the  tinker  as  "  my  Lord  Treep  "  and  to  the 
farrier  as  "  my  Lord  Burt."  His  wife's  doings  are  also  recorded,  but 
he  expresses  no  opinion  about  her.    Her  purchases  are  entered  : 


THE  REV.  JOHN  THOMLINSON  197 

Doomsday  of  Horsham  brought  my  wife  a  new  pair  of  jumps  instead  of 
stays.     She  paid  him  36s  6  for  them. 

Marchant  became  land  steward  to  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  who 
resided  at  Petworth,  having  married  Elizabeth,  Baroness  Percy. 
Although  business  meetings  with  him  are  mentioned,  we  learn 
nothing  about  this  nobleman  except  that  on  one  occasion  "  he 
was  in  a  cursed  bad  humour  about  the  dung  carts."  The  general 
impression  the  diary  gives  of  its  author  is  of  a  shrewd,  humorous, 
active  man,  practical,  rather  close,  easy  going  and  entirely  unre- 
flecting. 

The  MS.  of  the  diary  was  handed  down  in  the  family  and  lent 
in  1873  for  reproduction  in  the  Sussex  Archaeological  Collections. 


THE   REV.   JOHN  THOMLINSON 

THOMLINSON,    of  Blencogo,    curate  of  Rothbury   and 
subsequently  rector  of  Glenfield,  Leicestershire  (b.  1692, 
d.    1762),  began  keeping  a  diary    when  he  was  at    St'. 
John's  College,  Cambridge,  and  it  is  probable  that  he  kept  up  the 
habit  for  many  years.     A  third  part  of  the  manuscript  is  taken 
up  with  extracts  he  wrote  out  from  his  earher  diary  which  he  had 
kept   "in  loose  papers."     The  remainder    is  complete  between 
July  24,  1717,  and  January  9,  1718/9,  and  after  a  break  where  the 
diaries  are  missing  a  less  consecutive  record  of  the  years  1721  and 
1722.     Judging  by  the  complete  section  of  the  diary,  Thomhnson 
was  a  regular  writer,  never  missing  a  day.     But  this  diary  has 
several  peculiar  features.     He  writes  fully,  but  refers  compara- 
tively httle  to  local    incidents  or  to  births,   deaths,   marriages. 
Day  after  day  often  he  writes  down,  not  his  doings,  but  some 
anecdote  or  bit  of  information  quite  irrelevant  to  his  own  pursuits. 
For  instance,  in  January,  1717/8,  he  writes  on  immediately  conse- 
cutive days  about  rattlesnakes  (Jan.  19) ;  the  natives  of  Virginia 
(Jan.  20);    dolphins  (Jan.  21);  whales  (Jan.  22);     sharks  (Jan. 
23) ;    the  rivers  of  the  world  (Jan.  24).     It  would  seem  as  if  he 
were  making  notes  on  what  he  was  reading  or  collecting  anecdotes, 
as  a  raconteur,  for   future  use.     There  is  a  certain  amount  of 
erudition  in  some  of  his  remarks,  and  he  comments  on  pubhc 
events ;  on  the  other  hand,  he  never  fails  to  recount  the  grossest 
local   scandals.     In  addition  to  this,  however,  there  is  a  good 
deal  to  be  gathered  about  himself  which  is  very  far  from  being 


198  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

to  his  credit.  He  quotes  incessantly  his  two  uncles  John  and 
Robert.  He  was  curate  to  Uncle  John,  and  Uncle  Robert  was 
also  a  parson.  The  distinguishing  feature  of  the  diary  is  his 
endeavour  to  find  a  rich  wife  and  the  advice  given  him  by  his 
uncles  with  regard  to  his  material  advancement.  His  shameless 
pursuit  of  young  ladies  and  calculations  as  to  their  incomes,  his 
self-complacent  materiahsm  and  his  rehsh  of  unsavoury  scandals, 
show  him  up  in  a  most  unfavourable  light.  He  is  quite  sophisti- 
cated and  there  is  a  complete  absence  of  naiveti  in  his  comments. 
No  note  of  passion,  of  love,  or  remorse,  or  even  of  disappointment, 
occurs  anywhere.  In  his  daily  entries  he  must  have  been  quite 
unaware  that  he  was  recording  anything  discreditable  to  himself. 
He  probably  regarded  himself  as  an  attractive  Don  Juan  ;  but  the 
diary  gives  him  away. 

He  refers  to  his  own  sermons  in  a  very  conceited  way,  and  is 
always  calculating  how  he  can  get  a  good  hving. 

After  leaving  Rothbury  he  makes  desperate  efforts  to  become 
chaplain  to  the  Duke  of  Wharton  (the  most  notorious  profligate 
of  the  day),  but  nothing  comes  of  it.  We  cannot  imagine  that 
the  Duke  was  anxious  to  have  any  sort  of  chaplain,  even  one  of 
this  type.  Nevertheless,  John  Thomhnson  was  no  fool.  He 
evidently  read  a  great  deal,  and  he  makes  critical  comments  on 
his  studies,  as,  for  instance : 

1718.  Aug.  3.  Eachard's  history  commended  by  Dr.  Ellison.  Uncle  says 
he  never  heard  it  commended  before — he  flags  in  his  Roman  history,  the  two 
first  volumes  only  good — Dryden  corrected  his  first  volume  which  made  it 
excellent.  Collier's  History  not  good— tho"  he  rubs  up  his  witt  and  lards 
his  book  with  sententious  and  quaint  expressions  in  most  pages. 

"  Uncle  says,"  "  Uncle  told  me,"  "  Uncle  thinks,"  etc.,  occur 
very  often.  In  fact.  Uncle  John  seems  to  have  interfered  in 
matters  both  great  and  small.  From  marriage  down  to  "  Uncle 
found  fault  with  my  wig  for  being  so  hght  said  I  should  have  a 

darker  one." 

The  pursuit  of  the  young  ladies  is  so  ludicrous  that  it  is  worth 
quoting,  although  the  frequent  changes  make  it  difficult  to  follow. 

We  begin  with  Miss  Nicolson,  daughter  of  the  Bishop  of  Carlisle. 

1717.  July  31.  "Uncle  John  has  spoke  to  the  Bishop  of 
Cariisle  about  his  daughter."  But  immediately  after  comes: 
"  if  I  do  not  like  her  Aunt  thinks  he  will  be  for  her  of  Alnwick." 
This  was  Miss  Potts,  who  was  kept  going  for  some  time.  But  in 
August  Uncle  John  says  :  "  Mr.  Collingwood  is  an  honest  man 
and  he  has  got  a  daughter  for  you  if  you'U  have  her— he  will  give 


THE  REV.   JOHN  THOMLINSON  199 

her  perhaps  £7  or  800 — but  what's  that  to  twelve  thousand  which 
your  father  and  I  have."  Uncle  John  goes  further  in  September, 
and  in  conversation  with  Mr.  Collingwood  says  :  "  Come,  you'll 
not  advance  £500  with  your  daughter  not  £50  either."  In  October 
young  John  is  taken  to  see  "  yon  damsel  of  Mr.  Collingwood's." 
His  only  comment  is  "  she's  like  a  Flanders  mare  .  .  .  had  a 
very  mean  dinner  but  a  bottle  of  wine  "  ;  and  later  in  the  month  : 
"  Uncle  .  .  .  would  have  Dolly  but  I  am  resolved  against  it. 
Our  dinner  was  well  drest  but  I  cannot  approve  her  person." 
Uncle  Robert  was  against  this  match ;  he  "  had  rather  I  should 
have  Mr.  Douglas'  daughter  than  Dolly  Collingwood  but  he  has 
one  in  view  with  £3000  whose  father  is  the  most  likely  man  too 
to  gett  me  a  hving  of  any  man  he  knows." 

Meanwhile  Miss  Ord  was  in  the  running  because  her  father  had 
the  gift  of  a  good  living.  She  was  "  religious  and  good  natured," 
"  not  a  woman  of  parts  or  extraordinary  sense  but  enough  to 
manage  a  house." 

In  April,  1718,  he  writes  :  "  .  .  .  tryed  one  woman  and  did 
not  like  her  I  was  to  try  another  shortly  and  if  I  found  her  answer 
the  description  I  intended  to  attack  her  very  briskly  and  reduce 
her  by  storm."  (It  is  impossible  to  say  to  which  of  them  he 
refers.)  In  June,  1718,  Jesse  Hall  appears  on  the  scene,  but 
only  for  a  moment,  and  in  the  following  January  he  makes  an 
entry  showing  he  is  afraid  of  an  entanglement,  but  the  lady's 
name  is  left  blank. 

After  the  break  in  the  diary  when  he  had  left  Rothbury  his 
affections  turn  to  Mrs.  Lawson,  and  a  few  months  later  to  Nancy 
Repington,  with  whom  he  goes  very  far ;  "no  bait  shall  catch 
me  but  my  dearest  lady,"  he  writes  to  her,  "  I'm  all  hers  heart, 
estate,  etc."  At  the  same  time  Cousin  Polly  is  spoken  of.  We 
feel  Mary  Repington,  referred  to  as  "  the  lady  of  Amington," 
will  be  the  favoured  one  when  "  the  Bishop  of  London's  lady  " 
turns  up  with  a  living  of  £300  a  year  and  "  she  has  £1,200  and 
other  sisters  may  die."  He  is  in  great  perplexity  as  to  "  whether 
my  words  may  not  have  engaged  me  I  cannot  well  recollect." 
And  then  the  diary  ends.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  eventually 
marries  quite  another  lady,  the  daughter  of  his  patron  at  Glenfield, 
in  Leicestershire,  James  Winstanley.  We  know  nothing  of  his 
subsequent  history  except  the  date  of  his  death,  and  after  reading 
the  diary  that  exists  we  feel  very  little  incHnation  to  learn  more. 

Nevertheless,  this  is  an  instance  of  a  diary  which,  however 
unpleasing  it  may  be,  is  quite  spontaneous  and  honest  and  there- 
fore portrays  the  character  of  the  writer  more  vividly  than  letters 


I 


200  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

or  second-hand  observations  of  others  could  do  and  gives  a  truer 
picture  of  him  than  if  he  had  attempted  to  explain  himself  by 
means  of  self-analysis. 

The  manuscript  is  in  the  British  Museum  (Add.  MS.  22560), 
and  was  printed  by  the  Surtees  Society. 


JOHN  BYROM 

FROM  1722  to  1744  John  B>Tom  kept  a  very  full  and  detailed 
diary.  But  it  must  be  confessed  that,  although  Byrom 
was  an  extremely  learned  man  and  came  in  contact  with 
many  interesting  people,  there  is  very  little  that  is  either  arresting 
or  entertaining  in  his  long  daily  records.  Born  in  1692  at  Kersal 
Cell,  near  Manchester,  Byrom  was  educated  at  Merchant  Taylors 
School  and  Trinity  CoUege,  Cambridge.  He  studied  medicine, 
he  was  a  theologian,  a  mathematician,  and  a  poet  and  hymn 
writer,  but  his  attention  was  chiefly  occupied  with  the  system 
of  shorthand  which  he  invented.  From  the  artistic,  philosophic, 
and  human  point  of  view  shorthand  is  not  an  inspiring  subject, 
and  his  absorption  in  it,  which  appears  by  his  constant  references 
to  it  in  the  diary,  does  not  make  him  specially  attractive.  He 
shows  himself,  however,  to  be  very  domestic,  and  while  we  have 
the  record  of  conversations  and  discussions  on  religious  and 
scientific  subjects  he  is  not  above  telhng  us  when  he  plays  chess 
or  backgammon,  when  he  goes  to  the  play,  exactly  what  he  eats 
and  drinks,  and  particulars  with  regard  to  his  wife  and  children. 
In  April,  1726,  he  confesses  something  about  his  motive  in  keeping 
a  journal : 

I  find  that  though  what  I  set  down  in  this  kind  of  journal  is  nonsense  for 
the  most  part  yet  that  these  nonsenses  help  to  recollect  times  and  persons 
and  things  upon  occasion  and  serve  at  least  to  some  purpose  as  to  writing 
shorthand  ;  therefore  I  must  not,  I  think,  discontinue  it  any  longer,  but  only 
if  I  have  a  mind  omit  some  trifling  articles  ;  though  when  I  consider  that  it 
is  the  most  trifling  things  sometimes  that  help  us  to  recover  more  material 
things  I  do  not  know  that  I  should  omit  trifles  ;  they  may  be  of  use  to  me 
though  to  others  they  would  appear  ridiculous  ;  but  as  nobody  is  to  see  them 
but  myself,  I  will  let  myself  take  any  notes,  never  so  trifling,  for  my  own  use. 

It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  it  was  a  private  record,  never  intended 
for  pubUcation,  and  it  often  shows  an  astonishing  power  of  memory. 
He  seems  to  have  had  a  misgiving  about  going  on  with  it,  for  we 


JOHN  BYROM  201 

and  at  the  end  of  an  entry  in  June,  1736,  "  Qy.  to  abolish  this 
journal  when  I  came  home." 

He  was  engaged  in  a  book  on  shorthand  (which  was  not  published 
till  after  his  death),  he  teaches  shorthand  to  a  large  number  of 
pupils,  he  discusses  his  system  with  his  friends,  he  founds  a  short- 
hand society,  he  takes  down  sermons  in  shorthand,  and  he  criti- 
cises other  systems  of  shorthand. 

Byrom  generally  writes  from  Abington's  coffee-house,  which 
seems  to  have  been  his  headquarters.  He  habitually  begins  the 
record  of  the  day  by  giving  the  time  of  his  rising,  wliich  is  often 
very  late,  as  he  stays  up  late  at  night. 

Rose  at  ten  very  hearty  but  not  so  alert  as  yesterday. 

Rose  at  twelve  my  hand  trembled  very  much  but  I  was  very  hearty  ;   had 
milk  porridge  to  breakfast,  had  a  mackerel  to  dinner. 

The  coffee  tasted  very  good  after  my  fasting  since  morning,  that  is,  since 
twelve  or  one  o'clock — ^fine  morning  indeed,  you  idle  rogue  ! 

Rose  at  twelve — why  no  sooner  ? — God  be  mercifxil  to  me  a  sinner. 

For  the  most  part  the  entries,  though  full,  are  dull.  When  he 
travels  there  is  rather  more  colour  in  his  descriptions.  But  the 
longer  entries  are  taken  up  with  his  discussions  generally  on 
theological  subjects.  Though  an  adherent  of  the  Church  of 
England,  he  is  something  of  a  mystic,  and  he  is  interested  in  various 
Nonconformist  sects.  He  tries  to  win  back  a  young  lady  referred 
to  as  F.  H.  from  Quakerism  to  the  Church.  This  leads  to  certain 
misunderstandings. 

Mr.  Walker  said  that  Abel  Strethall  had  spoke  to  him  to  know  if  he  had 
heard  anything  of  her  and  wondered  at  my  going  there  and  thought  it  very 
odd  that  I  should  converse  with  a  young  woman  of  twenty  one,  which  I 
thought  a  little  carnal  of  friend  Abel. 

Many  eminent  people  of  the  day  become  interested  in  his 
system  of  shorthand.  He  has  discussions  with  Butler  (author  of 
the  Analogy),  William  Law  (the  Nonjuror),  the  Wesleys,  War- 
burton,  Bentley,  and  many  others,  amongst  whom  was  a  gentle- 
man who  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  Dr.  Anodyne  Necklace.  Byrom 
was  a  member  of  the  Royal  Society  and  describes  meetings  and 
controversies  there  under  the  presidency  of  Sir  Hans  Sloane. 
His  discussions  with  his  friends,  related  at  considerable  length, 
range  over  a  large  variety  of  topics— the  Creation,  rehgion, 
fluxions,  the  signs  of  the  Zodiac,  poetry,  mathematics,  Hebrew, 
etc.,  etc.,  but  they  are  generally  long-winded  and  rather  obscure. 


202  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Brimful  of  information  on  every  conceivable  subject,  we  can 
imagine  Byrom  must  have  been  rather  a  bore.  It  would  indeed 
be  difficult  to  have  any  light  intercourse  with  a  man  who  in  his 
spare  moments  was  engaged  in  reading  Capellus  against  Buxtorf, 
Clenardi,  Meursius,  Carpzovius,  Jamblicus  de  My  stents'  Gohorius, 
Avenerius,  Daubuz  on  the  Revelations,  Gutherius'  Offices,  Ebu 
Yokdam,  Rusbrochius,  Dachsel  on  Hebrew  accents,  Lactantius 
and  Passeratius. 

He  has  lighter  moods,  no  doubt,  but  we  get  no  sense  of  enjoy- 
ment or  fun  from  his  recital  of  his  less  serious  occupations.  For 
instance,  when  he  goes  to  a  masquerade  there  is  only  the  following 
perfunctory  reference  : 

They  talked  of  going  to  the  masquerade.  Ord  gave  me  a  ticket,  he  lent 
me  a  black  coat  and  waistcoat  and  bag  gown  and  sent  for  a  wig  from  the 
barber's  ;  Mr.  Folks  had  another  gown  and  Heyrick's  hat  without  his  rose : 
the  man  could  not  get  us  a  coach  so  we  walked  to  Common  Garden  and  took 
two  chairs.     My  chair  Is. 

We  don't  believe  he  enjoyed  himself,  and  we  cannot  help 
feehng  that  in  his  black  coat  and  waistcoat  he  was  longing  to  be 
back  'v\ath  Gohorius  and  Rusbrochius.  On  another  occasion, 
when  his  friends  talk  of  masquerades  and  plays,  he  says,  "  I  was 
grieved  in  spirit  for  myself  and  them." 

The  whole  diary  of  course  is  written  in  shorthand,  and  in  1728, 
on  a  visit  to  Cambridge,  he  comes  across  another  shorthand  diary, 
— ^the  greatest  of  all  diaries — "  five  large  volumes  quarto  being  a 
journal  of  Mr.  Pepys  ;  I  did  not  know  the  method  but  they  were 
writ  very  plain."  The  shorthand  expert,  however,  passes  them 
by,  and  is  only  interested  in  the  various  books  on  systems  of 
shorthand  in  the  Pepysian  Library.  His  own  work  was  pubhshed 
in  1767,  four  years  after  his  death. 

At  the  time  of  the  rebellion  Byrom  showed  Jacobite  sympathies, 
but  the  last  entry  in  the  diary  is  dated  January  27,  1744,  and  the 
rest  of  his  career  is  illustrated  by  a  number  of  his  letters.  In  the 
early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century  a  large  collection  of  his  papers 
was  discovered  in  the  two  family  residences  of  Kersall  Cell  and 
Quay  Street.  The  diary  was  deciphered  and  eventually  published 
by  the  Cheetham  Society  between  1854  and  1857,  together  with 
letters  and  other  memoranda.  There  is  an  attractive  portrait 
of  the  author  at  the  beginning  of  the  volumes  showing  a  youthful, 
pleasant  and  refined  face  with  a  very  high  forehead. 


ELIZABETH  BYROM  208 


ELIZABETH  BYROM 

ALTHOUGH  only  a  fragment,  this  diary  is  the  earliest 
woman's  diary  in  this  collection.  Elizabeth,  known 
L  as  "  Beppy,"  was  John  Byrom's  eldest  daughter.  She 
was  born  in  1722,  and  died  unmarried  in  1801.  She  inherited  the 
diary  writing  instinct  of  her  father,  or  perhaps  was  taught  by  him 
to  keep  one,  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  this  is  only  a  part  of  a 
fuller  journal.  The  entries,  which  become  regular  and  daily 
after  November  25,  begin  on  August  14,  1745,  and  end  on  January 
23,  1746,  covering  the  period  of  the  Pretender's  entry  into  Man- 
chester. Byrom  himself  refers  to  these  events  in  letters,  but  not 
in  his  diary.  While  there  is  nothing  remarkable  about  this 
record,  Beppy's  style  is  simpler  and  more  graphic  than  her 
father's,  and  we  get  quite  a  good  idea  of  the  invasion  of  the 
Jacobites,  with  whom  she,  like  her  father,  was  in  obvious 
sympathy.  There  are  only  a  few  references  to  domestic  details 
and  the  movements  of  her  family.  One  or  two  entries  begin  with 
the  word  "  smoothing,"  which  means  that  she  was  occupied  in 
ironing  clothes,  and  she  buys  "  a  blue  and  white  gown  "  for  125., 
after  things  have  quieted  down  she  goes  ""  a  hunting  "  and  has 
good  sport. 

The  following  extracts  may  be  given,  though  without  the 
consecutive  entries  no  impression  of  the  full  story  can  be  given : 

1745.     Aug.  14.     Great  talk  of  the  Pretender  coming. 

Sep.  26.  The  Presbyterians  are  sending  everjrthing  that's  valuable  away, 
wives,  children  and  all  for  fear  of  the  rebels. 

Nov.  16.  An  express  is  come  that  Carlisle  is  surrendered  to  the  rebels 
and  the  next  day  the  castle.  General  Wade  is  gone  to  the  relief  of  it,  but  went 
two  days  march  and  turned  again ;  they  were  two  days  without  any  provi- 
sions. Capt.  Barlow  has  writ  a  most  dismal  account  of  them,  that  they  are 
so  numbed  with  cold  and  their  limbs  mortify  and  they  die  very  fast. 

Nov.  27.  The  Prince  lay  at  Lawyer  Starkey's  Preston  last  night :  he  has 
marched  from  Carlisle  on  foot  at  the  head  of  his  army  ;  he  was  dressed  in  a 
Scotch  plaid,  a  blue  silk  waistcoat  with  silver  lace  and  a  Scotch  bonnet  with 
J.R.  on  it. 

Nov.  28.  About  3  o'clock  to-day  came  into  town  two  men  in  Highland 
dress  and  a  woman  behind  one  of  them  with  a  drum  on  her  knee  and  for  all 
the  loyal  work  that  our  Presbyterians  have  made,  they  took  possession  of  the 
town  as  one  may  say  for  immediately  after  they  were  light  they  beat  up  for 
volunteers  for  P.O. 


204  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Nov.  30.  I  dressed  me  up  in  my  white  gown  and  went  up  to  my  aunt 
BrearcliSe's  and  an  officer  called  on  us  to  go  see  the  Prince,  we  went  to  Mr. 
Fletcher's  and  saw  him  get  a  horseback  and  a  noble  sight  it  is,  I  would  not 
have  missed  it  for  a  great  deal  of  money  ;  his  horse  had  stood  an  hour  in  the 
court  without  stirring  and  as  soon  as  he  got  on  he  began  a-dancing  and  caper- 
ing as  he  was  proud  of  his  biu'den  and  when  he  rid  out  of  the  court  he  was 
received  with  as  much  joy  and  shouting  almost  as  if  he  had  been  king  without 
any  dispute,  indeed  I  think  scarce  anybody  that  saw  him  could  dispute  it. 

Dec.  12.     Smoothing  ;   my  brother  came  and  fetched  me  to  see  the  Duke 

[of  Cumberland]  we  all  went  up  to  Axmt  Brearcliffe's,  stayed  there  all  day,  saw 
nothing  but  the  light  horse  and  hussars  which  went  straight  through  the  town. 

Dec.  19.  Yesterday  was  the  fast ;  to-day  at  my  Uncle's  at  dinner,  it  is  the 
first  time  of  my  uncle's  going  out,  my  aunt  keeps  her  bed  ;  where  the  High- 
landers did  not  care  to  pay  they  drew  bills  upon  the  Duke  of  Kingston  or 
some  other  great  man ;  we  have  abundance  of  lies  about  them,  they  are 
killed,  taken,  surrounded,  and  got  clean  away  all  two  or  three  times  of  a  day. 

Dec.  29.  He  [The  Rev.  A.  Ward]  preached  in  the  afternoon  a  most  furious 
sermon  against  popery.  Mr.  Lewthwaite  and  Mr.  Johnson  drank  tea  at  my 
imcle's.  Mr.  L.  and  my  mama  had  a  great  scolding  bout  about  these  High- 
landers, he  abuses  them  most  strangely ;    we  stayed  the  evening. 

1746.  Jan.  3.  The  Presbyterians  have  made  two  effigies  of  the  Prince, 
one  in  his  Scot  dress  and  one  in  his  English  dress,  and  carried  them  up  and 
down  the  town  and  raised  a  great  mob  wliich  was  headed  by  some  of  the 
great  Presbyterian  gentlemen  and  went  to  all  the  houses  in  town  where  any 
were  gone  from  and  broke  their  windows  .  .  .  they  were  very  rude  and  they 
carried  their  bimch  of  rags  down  to  Mr.  Dakenfield's  and  the  Justice  out  of 
his  great  courage  got  a  gun  and  shot  at  it,  and  then  it  was  brought  into  the 
house,  and  he  wrung  it  by  the  nose,  then  his  wife  and  daughter  were  introduced 
and  had  the  honoiu:  to  slap  it  in  the  face,  and  so  on  till  they  all  were  tired  and 
drunk  for  all  the  heads  of  the  Presbyterians  were  at  the  Angel  and  gave  the 
mob  drink  ;  then  they  hung  it  upon  the  signpost  then  quartered  it,  then 
threw  it  into  the  fire  ;  somebody  threw  a  piece  of  it  into  the  drink  which  put 
them  into  a  violent  passion. 

Another  account  of  an  eye-witness  of  the  events  in  Manchester 
in  these  exciting  days  is  given  in  the  Lancashire  and  Cheshire 
Antiquarian  Society's  Transactions,  Vol.  VII,  in  the  form  of 
daily  memoranda  written  down  by  Thomas  Walley,  one  of  the 
constables.  His  account  is  more  official,  but  not  so  full  or 
picturesque  as  Beppy  Byrom's.  Her  diary  is  printed  with  her 
father's  in  the  Cheetham  Society's  volume  XLIV. 


/ 


JOHN  HOBSON  205 

JOHN  HOBSON 

THE  diary  of  Johii  Hobson,  of  Dodworth  Green,  York- 
shire, begins  on  January  1,  1725,  and  ends  on  January 
27,  1734-5.  The  entries  are  irregular,  an  interval  of 
several  days  often  occurring  between  them.  He  writes  of  local 
incidents  and  accidents,  visits,  and  gossip,  the  purchase  of  cattle, 
and  the  visits  of  friends  for  the  most  part  in  quite  a  perfunctory- 
way.  But  the  distinguishing  feature  of  the  diary  is  the  astonishing 
number  of  deaths  he  records,  so  that  the  journal  reads  like  a  page 
from  the  church  register  except  that  marriages  and  births  occur 
very  rarely.  Never  can  any  man  have  attended  so  many  funerals. 
The  cause  of  this  excessive  mortality  among  his  friends  and 
acquaintances  is  not  mentioned  except  on  one  or  two  occasions 
from  accidents  or  "  died  of  pleuritick  fever,"  "  died  of  the  small 
pox."  The  latter  disease,  which  was  the  scourge  of  the  time,  may 
account  for  many  of  the  deaths.  If  he  has  no  local  deaths  to 
record  he  mentions  the  decease  of  prominent  people,  "  The  King 
of  Denmark  dead,"  "The  Duke  of  Leeds  dead,"  Indeed,  John 
Hobson  seems  to  have  had  a  morbid  interest  in  Death  and  goes 
out  of  his  way  to  discover  its  ravages. 

May  8.  1730.  Observ'd  a  great  many  fresh  graves  at  Bradfleld  church- 
yard.    There  has  been  above  60  buried  there  in  a  short  time. 

It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  his  own  death  should  have 
been  a  subject  of  interest  to  him.  There  is  absolutely  no  personal 
note  in  the  diary  till  April,  1729,  when  on  the  15th  he  spends  the 
morning  "  in  meditating  on  the  ill  posture  of  my  affairs."  The 
infirmity  of  his  parents,  the  carelessness  of  his  servants  and  his 
debts 

depressed  my  spirits  so  much  and  made  me  so  weak  that  at  nine  o'clock  when 
I  got  up  I  supposed  myself  dying  for  several  hours.  I  thank  God  I  had  no 
fearfull  thoughts  nor  was  not  at  all  discouraged  at  the  apprehensions  of  death 
which  I  thought  every  minute  approaching  but  took  what  care  I  could  to 
spend  that  small  portion  of  time  I  thought  I  had  left  to  my  best  spirituaU 
advantage. 

The  Sacrament  is  administered  to  him  and  he  says  ; 

When  I  think  how  suddenly  death  may  overtake  one  it  wiU  make  me  lead 
a  more  circumspect  life  for  the  future  and  always  have  regard  to  my  latter 
end. 

The  doctor  who  blisters  him 


206  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

found  quickljf  that  it  was  mentall  as  well  as  corporeall  distemper  and  told  me 
I  had  the  hypochondriack  passion  upon  me,  which  then  I  could  not  believe, 
as  being  a  meer  stranger  to  that  distemper  but  found  his  words  very  true  for 
I  was  afterwards  very  often  so  much  disordered  in  my  thoughts  that  I  could 
not  rest  nor  govern  them. 

But  he  recovers  and  is  well  enough  to  record  the  death  of  two 
other  people  on  the  two  succeeding  days. 

He  falls  ill  again  in  1732,  "  there  was  but  small  hope  of  my 
recovery."  He  has  the  Sacrament  again,  and  again  recovers, 
and  is  able  to  announce  the  death  of  a  friend  and  his  father's 
death,  which  he  does  without  any  expressions  of  regret. 

The  large  number  of  names  mentioned  makes  the  journal 
valuable  from  the  point  of  view  of  local  history.  Otherwise  it  is 
only  just  possible  to  catch  a  ghmpse  of  the  personality  of  the 
writer.  By  a  curious  irony  the  date  of  the  diarist's  own  death  is 
not  recorded   anywhere. 

The  diary  was  communicated  by  Mr.  Joseph  Wilkinson  to  the 
Surtees  Society. 


WALTER  GALE 

ONLY  extracts  exist  of  the  diary  of  Walter  Gale,  school- 
master, of  Mayfield.  It  was  discovered  at  Hastings  spread 
out  in  a  garden  to  be  dried  for  the  purpose  of  hghting 
fires.  The  portion  rescued  from  the  flames  covers  intermittently 
the  period  from  1749  to  1759.  It  begins  on  the  appointment  of 
Gale  as  schoolmaster  at  Mayfield  at  a  salary  of  £16  a  year.  He 
was  a  versatile  man,  however,  and  made  money  in  other  ways 
besides  teaching.  He  paints  inn  signs,  designs  quilts,  waistcoats, 
neckerchiefs,  and  there  is  also  an  entry  "  finished  diamending  two 
heelbands  and  three-quarter  pieces  of  a  pair  of  shoes  for  Squire 
Baker's  lady." 

The  diary,  which  is  not  kept  with  daily  regularity,  is  an  astonish- 
ing mixture  of  a  record  of  drinks  and  sermons.  The  entries  of  the 
former  are  more  frequent  than  of  the  latter.  Incessantly  we  have 
"  he  treated  me  with  a  quartern  of  gin  "  ;  "he  treated  me  with  a 
mugg  of  fivepenny  "  ;  "he  treated  me  with  a  quartern  of  brandy 
and  a  mugg  of  ale  "  ;  "we  sat  down  with  the  aldermen  and  drank 
raisin  wine — ^very  good  !  "  The  text  of  the  Sunday  sermon  is 
always  given,  and  sometimes  his  conviviality  and  his  piety  are 
combined  in  one  entry. 


WALTER  GALE  207 

Sunday  April  6.  (1749)  I  went  to  Church  at  Hothley.  Text  from  St. 
Matthew  "  Take  no  thought  saying  What  shall  we  eat  and  what  shall  we  drink 
and  wherewithal  shall  we  be  clothed,"  and  I  went  to  Jones's  where  I  spent  2d 
and  here  came  Thomas  Cornwall  and  treated  me  with  a  pint  of  twopenny. 

On  one  occasion  he  falls  from  a  high  bank  in  the  dark.  This 
was  after  partaking  of  a  quartern  of  brandy,  a  pint  of  fivepenny 
and  a  mug  of  mild  beer.  An  accident  on  horseback  described  in 
detail  takes  place  after  visiting  "  Mr.  Bridge's  who  entertained 
me  well."  Drink  also  appears  to  have  been  his  remedy  in  illness  : 
"  Having  taken  three  pills  I  went  to  Peerless  for  a  Id  worth  of 
warm  ale."  A  Mr.  Rogers  presents  him  with  a  book  entitled  A 
Caution  to  Swearers.  But  the  schoolmaster  never  indulges  in  self- 
depreciation  or  remorse  over  his   failings. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  Gale  should  have  come  to  cross  purposes 
with  the  trustees  of  the  school.  John  Kent,  who  appears  to  have 
been  a  very  irascible  old  gentleman,  led  the  attack. 

1750.  May  26.  Old  Kent  came  and  I  went  with  him  to  Mr.  Baker  ;  they 
said  they  should  have  a  ragged  congregation  of  scholars  who  should  sit  together 
in  the  new  gallery  and  that  they  should  insist  on  my  sitting  with  them  ;  to 
this  I  did  not  assent. 

1758.  Tuesday  April  25.  Imettheoldman,  who,  without  any  provocation 
on  my  part  or  saying  a  word  to  him,  loaded  me  with  opprobrious  language 
and  told  me  the  report  of  the  town  was  that  I  was  a  drimken,  saucey,  covetious 
fellow  and  concluded  with  his  opinion  that  I  had  neither  good  breeding  nor 
honesty.  In  answer  I  disallowed  the  report  of  the  old  man  charged  upon 
the  town  ;  I  allowed  there  might  be  a  little  truth  in  my  being  covetuous  but 
as  to  drunkenness  and  sauciness,  it  was  utterly  false. 

The  incident  of  his  fall  off  "  the  high  bank  "  got  about : 

Old  Kent  came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  above  journey  and  told  it  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Downall  in  a  false  manner,  much  to  my  disadvantage  ;  he  said  I 
got  drunk  and  that  that  was  the  occasion  of  my  falling  and  that  not  being 
contented  with  what  I  had  had,  I  went  into  the  town  that  night  for  more. 

Foreseeing  trouble.  Gale  got  up  a  testimonial  to  himself  from 
his  neighbours,  certifying  to  his  good  qualities,  "  his  attachment 
to  church  and  state,  his  sober  Hfe,  and  conversation."  But  old 
Kent  continued  to  visit  the  school  and  make  trouble. 

The  old  man  entered  the  school  with  George  Wilmhurst  and  Eliz.  Hook 
and  said  they  should  be  taught  free.  I  asked  him  how  many  I  was  to  teach 
free  ;  without  any  further  ado  he  flew  into  a  violent  passion.  Among  other 
abusive  and  scmrilous  language  he  said  I  was  an  upstart,  runnagate,  beggarly 
dog  ;  that  I  picked  his  pocket  and  that  I  never  knew  how  to  teach  a  school 
in  my  life  ...  he  clinched  his  fist  in  my  face — made  a  motion  to  strike  me 
and  declared  he  would  break  my  head.     He  did  not  strike  me  but  withdrew 


208  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

in  a  wonderful  heat  and  ended  all  with  his  general  maxim  "  The  greater 
scholler  the  greater  rogue." 

One  more  outburst  of  Kent's  is  recorded  : 

I  was  told  by  Mr.  Downer  that  the  day  before  James  had  been  so  indiscreet 
as  to  sufier  Richardson's  boy  George  to  bring  beer  into  the  school,  and,  old 
Kent  coming  in  before  the  mug  was  out,  the  boy  asked  him  to  drink  ;  there- 
upon he  fell  into  a  great  heat  and  drove  the  boy  out  of  the  school. 

Except  for  the  account  of  these  disputes  very  Httle  mention 
is  made  of  the  school  or  the  scholars.  The  schoolmaster's  interests 
were  evidently  in  other  directions. 

One  of  his  references  to  smugghng  may  be  quoted  : 

I  set  out  for  Laughton  after  drinking  a  quatern  of  gin  and  came  to  White- 
smiths where  was  a  hm-ley  boUoo  about  Mr.  Plummer's  (now  a  custom  house 
officer)  having  seized  a  horse  loaded  with  3  anchors  of  brandy  which  was 
carried  oS  by  him  and  two  soldiers. 

The  end  part  of  the  diary  is  unfortunately  lost.  But  Gale  held 
his  place  till  1771,  long  after  his  formidable  adversary  old  Kent 
was  laid  in  his  grave.  However,  in  spite  of  the  invariable  self- 
complacency  of  this  diarist,  liis  manner  of  Hving  eventually 
brought  him  into  trouble.  On  October  18,  1771,  it  was  resolved 
by  the  trustees,  nem.  con., 

That  the  schoolmaster,  Mr.  Walter  Gale,  be  removed  from  the  school  for 
neglecting  the  duties  thereof  and  that  he  have  notice  to  leave  the  same  the 
next  quarter  day. 

The  diary  was  published  by  the  Sussex  Archaeological  Society. 


GEORGE  BUBB  DODINGTON  (Lord  Melcombe) 

IF  only  Bubb  Dodington  had  written  a  diary  about  the  more 
domestic  side  of  his  hfe, — ^if  only  he  had  displayed  himself  as 
a  wit,  a  friend  of  wits,  scholars,  and  authors,  and  given  some  of 
his  literary  and  social  experiences, — ^we  should  no  doubt  have 
been  greatly  entertained.  As  it  is,  his  diary,  covering  the  years 
from  1749  to  the  beginning  of  1761  (the  year  before  his  death),  is 
just  a  long  rather  involved  register  of  political  intrigue.  In 
many  diaries  there  is  an  abundance  of  self-reproach.  Here  we 
get  a  complete  contrast.  The  keynote  of  Bubb  Dodington's  diary 
is  self-justification.     He  seems  anxious  to  throw  the  most  favour- 


GEORGE   BUBB   DODINGTON  209 

able  light  he  can  on  the  sordid  intrigues  in  which  he  was  continu- 
ally  engaged  as  an  unashamed  political  place-hunter. 

The  diary  was  published  by  Mr.  Henry  Penruddocke  Wyndham 
in  1785.  It  had  been  bequeathed  to  him  with  other  papers  by 
Mr.  Thomas  Wyndham,  Dodington's  cousin,  with  an  injunction 
that  only  those  should  be  pubhshed  which  may  "  in  some  degree 
do  honour  "  to  Lord  Melcombe's  memory.  Mr.  Henry  Wyndham 
hesitated  on  the  propriety  of  publisliing  the  diary,  as  "  it  shows 
his  political  conduct  (however  palliated  by  the  ingenuity  of  his 
own  pen)  to  have  been  wholly  directed  by  the  base  motives  of 
avarice,  vanity,  and  selfishness."  But  the  very  careful  way  in 
which  Dodington  had  written  out  the  whole  diary  afresh  forces 
the  editor  to  the  conclusion  that  he  "  wrote  for  the  pubhck  and 
that  he  intended  his  diary  should  in  a  future  season  be  produced 
to  light."  Accordingly  he  had  no  compunction  in  having  it 
printed. 

Bubb  Dodington,  born  in  1691,  was  returned  for  Pariiament  as 
member  for  Winchelsea  in  1715.  Subsequently  he  sat  for  Bridg- 
water. For  sixteen  years  he  was  a  Lord  of  the  Treasury.  In 
1744  he  was  Treasurer  of  the  Navy  under  Henry  Pelham  and 
again  in  1755  under  Newcastle  and  Fox.  He  succeeded  the  year 
before  he  died  in  getting  a  peerage. 

Political  backstairs  intrigue  is  not  a  very  inspiring,  nor  indeed 
a  very  interesting,  theme  at  anytime.  In  the  days  of  George  II 
there  was  so  much  of  it  and  its  ramifications  were  so  involved 
that  it  is  difficult  now  to  follow,  and  one  has  some  reluctance,  or 
rather  disincHnation,  to  make  any  attempt  to  disentangle  the 
threads.  Dodington's  venahty  and  tergiversations  were  so 
marked  that  he  became  a  target  for  pohtical  satires,  caricatures 
and  pamphlets,  and  it  is  not  surprising  when  we  find  him  com- 
plaining of  the  pubhcation  of  "  the  vilest  and  most  rancorous 
pamphlet  against  me." 

It  is  quite  impossible  to  follow  him  through  the  political  maze. 
Extracts  must  be  picked  out  here  and  there  to  illustrate  his 
endeavours  to  be  on  the  winning  side  and  to  get  the  best  he  can 
for  himself. 

In  1749  he  resigns  his  post  as  Treasurer  of  the  Navy  in  order 
to  throw  his  lot  in  with  Frederick,  Prince  of  Wales,  who,  as  we 
know,  lived  in  bitter  rivalry  with  his  father.  We  get  a  full  account 
of  the  bargain.  The  Prince  offers  him  £2,000  a  year,  Bubb  Doding- 
ton goes  through  the  form  of  saying  he  would  prefer  to  take  the 
post  of  Treasurer  of  the  Chambers  "  without  any  salary."  The 
Prince  of  course  refuses. 
14 


210  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

He  then  immediately  added  that  we  must  settle  what  was  to  happen  in 
reversion  and  said  he  thought  a  Peerage  with  the  management  of  the  House 
of  Lords  and  the  seals  of  Secretary  of  State  for  the  southern  province  would 
be  a  proper  station  for  me  if  I  approved  of  it.  Perceiving  me  to  be  under 
much  confusion  at  this  unexpected  ofier  and  at  a  loss  how  to  express  myself, 
he  stopped  me  and  then  said,  I  now  promise  you  on  the  word  and  honour  of 
a  Prince  that  as  soon  as  I  come  to  the  Crown  I  will  give  you  a  peerage  and  the 
Seals  of  the  Southern  province.  Upon  my  endeavouring  to  thank  him  he 
repeated  the  same  words  and  added  (putting  back  his  chair)  and  I  give 
you  leave  to  kiss  my  hand  upon  it  now  by  way  of  acceptance  ;  which  I  did 
accordingly. 

But  they  were  both  of  them  counting  their  chicks  before  they 
were  hatched,  and  when  the  Prince  most  provokingly  died  less 
than  two  years  later  all  Bubb  Dodington's  schemes  were  over- 
turned. While  he  was  with  the  Prince,  however,  there  were 
dissensions  in  the  camp,  and  he  was  accused  of  having  forced 
himself  on  the  Prince,  which  accusation  in  many  pages  of  the 
diary  he  elaborately  repudiates.  The  royal  animosity  against 
Frederick  was  kept  up  after  his  death.  We  are  told  in  the  diary 
that  in  the  funeral  procession  "  there  was  not  an  Enghsh  Lord, 
nor  one  Bishop,  and  only  one  Irish  Lord." 

No  refreshment  was  provided  for  those  who  did  attend,  and  they 
"  were  forced  to  bespeak  a  great  cold  dinner  from  a  common 
tavern  in  the  neighbourhood." 

For  a  moment  after  Frederick's  death  Dodington  is  depressed. 

He  writes  : 

I  have  done  enough  and  henceforth  shalllive  to  myself  the  years  which  God 
in  his  mercy  grant  me  unless  I  am  called  upon  to  assist. 

Nevertheless  he  soon  begins  making  advances  to  Pelham  and 
offers  him  "  all  the  services  in  his  power."  The  difficulty  is  to 
get  round  the  King,  so  he  keeps  on  protesting,  "  it  was  never 
my  intention  to  offend  His  Majesty."  At  the  same  time  he  keeps 
up  intimate  relations  with  the  widowed  Princess,  who  is  much 
exercised  about  the  upbringing  and  education  of  her  children, 
specially  Prince  George.     One  one  of  these  visits  he  writes  : 

I  waited  on  the  Princess  and  staid  with  her  two  hours.  Much  freedom  and 
condescension — rather  too  much  of  the  first  on  my  side. 

He  was  quite  a  friend  of  the  family,  as  we  see  by  this  domestic 
scene. 

I  went  to  Leicester  House  expecting  a  small  company  and  a  little  musick 
but  found  nobody  but  her  Royal  Highness.     She  made  me  draw  a  stool  and 


GEORGE  BUBB  DODINGTON  211 

sit  by  the  fire  side.  Soon  after  came  in  the  Prince  of  Wales  [George  III]  and 
Prince  Edward  and  then  the  Lady  Augusta  all  in  imdress  and  took  their 
stools  and  sat  round  the  fire  with  us.  We  continued  talking  of  famihar 
occurrences  till  between  ten  and  eleven  with  the  ease  and  unreservedness  and 
unconstraint  as  if  one  had  dropped  into  a  sister's  house  that  had  a  family  to 
pass  the  evening. 

His  plots  with  Pelhara  cease  because  Pelham  dies  in  1754,  so 
then  he  starts  with  the  Duke  of  Newcastle.  With  him  he  reaches 
a  degree  of  cordiahty  which  raises  his  highest  hopes ;  he  says  to 
the  Duke  : 

I  would  not  even  be  in  the  right  against  him  and  I  was  very  sure  I  would 
never  again  be  in  the  wrong  against  him  for  which  I  hoped  his  Grace  would 
be  my  caution.  He  said  he  would  with  all  his  heart.  He  took  me  in  liis  arms 
and  kissed  me  twice  with  strong  assurances  of  affection  and  service. 

This  on  March  21.     But  on  March  27  he  notes : 

Notwithstanding  the  fine  conversation  of  last  Thursday  all  the  employments 
were  given  away. 

So  when  in  the  following  month  he  has  another  long  interview 
with  the  Duke  he  concludes  his  account   of  it : 

He  made  great  professions  of  good  wishes,  good  will,  best  endeavours 
etc.  etc.  which  weigh  with  me  as  much  as  the  breath  they  were  composed  of. 

But  his  struggle  for  place  and  recognition  continues,  "for," 
he  openly  confesses,  "  I  was  determined  to  make  some  sort  of 
figure  in  life."  But  the  immensely  long  interviews  and  conversa- 
tions, in  which  there  is  very  little  about  policy  and  nothing  what- 
ever about  principle,  are  fatiguing,  and  sufficient  quotations 
have  been  given  to  show  what  Bubb  Dodington  was  after.  As 
already  related,  he  eventually  succeeded  in  getting  his  reappoint- 
ment as  Treasurer  of  the  Navy,  after  which  it  is  not  surprising 
to  read  that  "  Her  Royal  Highness  received  me  very  coolly."  A 
year  before  he  died  he  was  given  a  peerage,  so  perhaps  his  ambi- 
tions were  more  or  less  satisfied. 

A  good  many  sideUghts  on  elections  and  electoral  methods  occur 
in  the  diary.  He  expresses  indignation  at  the  methods  of  his 
opponents,  as  if  his  own  were  above  reproach.  We  may  find 
fault  with  our  electoral  system  to-day,  but  we  can  congratulate 
ourselves  that  there  is  some  improvement  on  those  days  when  an 
election  at  which  under  350  votes  were  polled  cost  the  candidate 
£5,000,  as  was  the  case  with  Dodington  at  Bridgwater. 

A  most  unfavourable  criticism  of  Bubb  Dodington  occurs  in 
Egmont's  diary.     Horace  Walpole  in  the  course  of  a  conversation 


212  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

with  Egmont  in  1733,  after  describing  how  Dodington  "  does 
perfectly  govern  "  the  Prince  of  Wales,  adds  that  he  is  "  the 
vilest  man,  vain,  ambitious,  loose  and  never  to  be  satisfied.  He 
wants  now  to  be  a  Lord  and  when  he  is  that  he  will  want  to  be 
a  Duke." 

Several  poems  were  dedicated  to  Bubb  Dodington  and  he  him- 
self was  the  writer  of  occasional  verse.  We  learn  through  Cumber- 
land, Lord  Halifax's  secretary,  something  about  the  showy  and 
tasteless  splendour  in  which  he  lived ;  with  his  vast  figure  arrayed 
in  gorgeous  brocades  he  would  loll  after  dinner  in  his  chair  in 
lethargic  slumbers  and  wake  up  to  produce  an  occasional  flash 
of  wit  or  to  read  selections,  often  of  the  coarsest  kind,  even  to  the 
ladies.  It  is  a  pity  that  his  diary  does  not  reflect  any  of  his  wit 
or  his  apparently  eccentric  humours. 


JOHN  BAKER 

BAKER,  who  was  a  sohcitor  and  barrister  of  the  Inner  Temple, 
kept  a  regular  diary  from  1750  to  1779.  He  carried  on  his 
business  in  London  and  was  a  wealthy  man,  having  married 
an  heiress.  Miss  Ryan,  whose  sister  married  Cardinal  Manning's 
grandfather.  In  1771  he  came  to  reside  at  Horsham,  in  Sussex, 
when  he  was  59,  and  it  is  only  the  diary  from  that  date  that  is 
available  for  examination.  The  entries  are  very  regular,  describ- 
ing his  daily  occupations  and  giving  the  names  of  a  multitude  of 
friends  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  The  style  is  peculiar  and 
individual ;  words  in  Latin,  French,  and  other  languages  are 
inserted  here  and  there  with  amusing  effect.  He  always  refers 
to  his  wife  as  Uxor.     For  instance : 

Uxor  and  2  Pattys  and  I  to  Col.  Leland's  in  coach  and  4.  Home  to  dinner. 
Soir  home. 

Mrs.  Drury  came  and  went  with  y**™  in  carosse  a  quatre.  Mrs.  Blunt  seule. 
Mr.  Tridcroft  and  sisters  Id.  Mr.  Blunt  had  been  d  cheval  to  within  5  miles  of 
Guildford. 

J.P.B.  out  shooting,  ne  tua  rien. 

Uxor  went  hier  in  chaise  con  little  Patty  to  see  Mrs.  Blunt. 

Brother  brought  a  letter  from  each  of  his  daughters  to  me  with  a  waistcoat 
made  by  I'ainee,  also  a  letter  from  Mr.  William  Johnson  which  shall  read  eras. 

Dined  seul.     Apres  midi  walked  old  walk  to  mill. 


JOHN    BAKER  213 

Colonel  Leland  we  saw  not,  he  out  shooting.  Rest  of  day  a  I'ordinaire. 
Soir  picquet.     Drank  two  pint  bottles  of  cowslip  wine. 

Mr.  Blunt  called  and  asked  me  to  dine  at  his  house  to-day.  I  went  portant 
first  time  ma  belle  culottc  noire.     Found  Mr.  Thomas  White  and  Mr.  B.'s  two 

fils  cadets. 

His  occupations  are  not  particularly  interesting.  In  addition 
to  dinners  and  entertainments  and  dances  at  V assemhlee,  his 
chief  form  of  amusement  seems  to  have  been  looking  on  at  cricket 
matches,  which  he  describes. 

And  here  is  an  example  of  a  dance :  / 

We  all  went  to  Mr.  George  Waller's,  the  "  Anchor  "  oil  a,  dance  [Here 
follows  a  list  of  names]  N  B  All  marked  X  danced  continually  changing 
partners.  Began  soon  after  7  danced  till  9,  then  drank  tea,  then  danced 
till  12,  then  supped  in  another  room  .  .  .  then  the  ladies  to  dancing  room  and 
went  to  singing  and  the  gentlemen  who  sat  down  to  supper  after  ladies  gone 
went  backward  and  forward  to  rooms  where  they  were  singing.  At  near 
2  began  three  or  four  more  dances  and  broke  up  at  3. 

We  have  records  of  his  occasional  reading : 

Read  Boccacio's  Novel  of  "  Tedaldo  and  Emmelina."  Apres  midi  took 
"Ninon  de  I'Enclos." 

Mr.  Waller  sent  for  "  Drake's  Voyage  "  same  I  gave  Jack  Manning  at 
Barbadoes  and  I  lent  him  Pennant's  "  First  Tour." 

Read  "  Emma  "  said  to  be  Lady  Ferguson's  and  several  other  books. 

Edward  came  home  with  me  and  took  back  "  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury." 

All  day  reading  "  Abbe  Rayner." 

He  gives  his  daughters  curious  reading  in  the  shape  of  trials. 

Girls  read  Mary  Modders  trial  for  bigamy. 

Girls  read  at  night  Colonel  James  Turner's  Trial  but  si  mal  elle  sortit  pleurant. 

He  plays  bowls  and  cards  and  draughts,  and  although  hot 
punch  and  other  drinks  are  mentioned  on  only  one  occasion 
does  he  seem  to  have  gone  too  far. 

Afternoon  ni  cartes  ni  bowls.  Drank  a  httle  hard  and  walked  in  garden. 
A  little  dance,  sans  violon,  only  one  dance. 

He  takes  no  interest  in  public  affairs,  and  the  only  incident 
recorded  which  does  not  immediately  concern  him  and  his  neigh- 
bours, except  trials  in  the  district  which  he  several  times  describes, 
is  the  quarrel  and  duel  between  John  Scawen  and  Fitzgerald, 
of  which  he  gives  an  account  in  some  detail. 


214    '  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Although  there  is  no  personal  note  or  attempt  at  self-revelation, 
there  is  a  certain  intimacy  in  the  homely  details  which  seems  to 
bring  one  into  close  proximity  to  the  diarist  so  that  when  Uxor  falls 
ill  one  can  feel  his  bitter  grief  behind  the  reticent  notes  on  her 
illness. 

Uxor  exceeding  ill  at  night.  .  .  .  Uxor  much  better  ce  soir.  [The  use  of 
French  shows  a  rise  of  spirits].  .  .  .    Uxor  exceeding  low  to-night. 

And  then  Uxor  dies  and  there  is  a  most  affecting  scene.  For 
once  he  breaks  his  bare  record  of  events  by  exclaiming,  "  Good 
God,  how  terrible  and  racking  it  was."  He  spends  a  fortnight 
in  retirement  in  his  own  grounds  without  any  communication 
with  his  friends.     Then  he  resumes  his  ordinary  life. 

But  there  is  a  special  feature  in  the  diary  which  throws  a  good 
deal  of  light  on  John  Baker's  disposition.  Many  diarists  make 
occasional  references  to  their  ailments.  But  Baker  gives  the 
closest  attention  to  his  physical  infirmities,  and  makes  a  very 
detailed  analysis  of  his  illness,  the  remedies  used,  and  the  effects 
obtained,  sometimes  in  French,  sometimes  in  plain  English. 
These  notes,  however,  would  only  be  suitable  for  a  medical  journal, 
and  a  few  typical  extracts  alone  can  be  given  here  : 

Was  taken  with  a  violent  ague — drank  hot  punch  and  Madeira  negus — 
found  myself  heavy  with  that — slept  well  rest  of  night ;  drank  much  milk 
and  water,  wonderfully  refreshing — which  sat  pleasingly  on  my  stomach. 

Took  castor  oil  a  very  large  dose  at  J  past  4,  lay  till  J  before  7  quand  une  beUe 
operation  mais  c'etait  la  seule. 

Awoke  ce  matin  with  a  violent  pain  .  .  .  took  warm  water,  honey,  Twoa, 
turlington,  then  a  mug  of  warm  water  and  souring  then  wood  strawberry 
brandy.  However  eat  nothing  but  a  little  broth  to  dinner  and  at  picquet 
broad  glass  of  gin  punch  and  turlington.  Afterwards  mug  small  beer  and 
sugar — to  bed  soon  after  ten. 

Went  to  Church.  Thought  to  stay  to  Sacrament  but  sermon  began  just 
before  twelve  and  very  cold  and  pain  in  bowels,  so  did  not. 

His  health,  in  fact,  undoubtedly  caused  him  anxiety.  He  may 
have  been  a  hypochondriac,  but  judging  by  the  remedies  he  took 
he  must  certainly  have  aggravated  any  trouble  he  may  have  had. 

The  year  before  he  died  (1777)  he  makes  the  following  entry, 
which  shows  a  sad  depression  from  his  usual  cheerfulness  : 

Sep.  28.  My  father  died  wanting  22  days  of  completing  his  66th  year  I 
want  more  than  four  months  of  completing  my  66  year  which  I  think  it  utterly 
impossible  I  shall  ever  do,  for  I  grow  daily  weaker.  The  sea  baths  nor  sea 
air  has  any  effect  to  make  me  better  but  all  are  flat  and  useless,  and  I  have 


DR.   RUTTY  215 

neither  pleasure  nor  amendment  from  them.  'Tis  a  vain  struggle  to  attempt 
to  lengthen  this  poor  remnant  of  life.  Even  if  it  could  be  prolonged  it  is  not 
worth  holding.  I  have  no  business  above  ground.  I  consume  hourly  and 
both  my  feelings  and  my  countenance  make  me  look  upon  myself  as  a  dead 
man, 

Sept.  29.  I  believe  the  glass  of  milk  and  gin  and  the  five  or  six  glasses  of 
arrack  Pvmch  I  drank  at  Mrs.  Bell's  heated  me  too  much,  pains  in  hips,  left 
thigh,  and  knee  exceeding  stiff.  In  night  both  knee  bones  ached.  Left  thigh 
aches  and  knee  burns. 

John  Baker  also  made  an  elaborate  daily  weather  chart. 

The  diary,  bound  in  vellum,  was  left  by  Cardinal  Manning  to 
his  niece,  Mrs.  Gasquet,  who  gave  it  to  Mr.  Wilfred  Scawen  Blunt. 
It  forms  part  of  the  papers  at  Newbuildings,  and  the  portion  of  it 
from  which  the  above  extracts  are  taken  was  communicated  by 
Mr.  Blunt  to  the  Sussex  Archaeological  Collections  in  1909. 


DR.   RUTTY 

THERE  are  many  instances  of  diaries  which  have  been 
kept  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  spiritual  correction, 
though  other  matters  may  also  find  a  place  in  them.  The 
long  prayers,  the  pages  of  self- depreciation,  the  exaggerated 
humility,  make  rather  tedious  reading.  Dr.  John  Rutty's 
"  spiritual  diary,"  although  it  is  exclusively  concerned  with  his 
inner  life  and  contains  hardly  any  mention  at  all  of  events  or 
domestic  matters,  differs  both  in  form  and  style  from  any  of  the 
others  and  must  be  regarded  as  a  unique  production.  Dr.  John- 
son was  much  diverted  and  laughed  heartily  when  parts  of  the 
diary  were  read  to  him.  And  indeed,  as  will  be  seen  by  the 
following  extracts,  there  is  something  pecuharly  funny  in  Dr. 
Rutty's  entries.  Unfortunately,  too,  we  find  ourselves  laughing 
at  the  doctor  and  not  with  him,  for  his  humour  is  quite  uncon- 
scious. But  we  are  disposed  to  take  a  more  serious  view  when 
we  have  the  whole  diary  before  us  and  can  see  the  patient  and 
ceaseless  endeavour  of  a  really  spiritually-minded  man  to  combat 
his  faihngs.  He  did  not  begin  diary  writing  till  he  was  56,  and 
he  continued  till  within  four  months  of  his  death  at  the  age  of 
77  (1753  to  1774).  He  can  have  had  no  thought  of  publication 
when  he  began  his  diary,  but  after  continuing  for  twelve  years  or 
so  he  decided  that  its  publication  might  be  helpful  to  others. 
It  is  his  laconic,  ejaculatory,  epigrammatic  style  that  makes 


216  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

the  diary  notable.  It  reminds  one  in  its  short  paragraphs  some- 
times of  the  Psalms  and  sometimes  of  the  book  of  Jeremiah. 
There  is  no  doubt  Rutty  modelled  his  style  on  the  Bible.     He  says  : 

There  is  a  beautiful  laconism  in  the  holy  scriptures  ;  but  many  preachers 
and  authors  seem  to  think  to  be  heard  for  their  much  speaking  and  writing  : 
but  they  bring  their  jewels  in  a  deal  of  chaff. 

John  Rutty  was  born  in  Wiltshire,  of  Quaker  parents,  in  1698. 
He  was  educated  at  Leyden,  took  his  medical  degree  in  1723,  and 
settled  down  to  a  practice  in  Dubhn  in  1724.  He  wrote  several 
learned  medical  books  as  well  as  a  history  of  the  Quakers  in 
Ireland.  He  was  a  much  esteemed  and  successful  physician, 
and  to  his  friends  he  appeared  a  humble,  self-sacrificing,  temper- 
ate man  of  pleasing  temper  and  charitable  disposition.  But 
inwardly  he  was  consumed  with  the  notion  that  he  was  a  prey  to 
drink,  gluttony  and  bad  temper,  and  his  diary  records  his  un- 
ceasing struggle  with  these  failings,  and  the  entries  recording  his 
failures  and  resolutions  continue  ceaselessly  throughout  the  diary, 
which  in  the  earlier  years  is  kept  with  almost  daily  regularity. 

Before  singling  out  special  extracts  for  quotation  with  regard 
to  his  lapses,  it  will  be  as  well  to  give  a  sample  page  as  an  illus- 
tration of  his  biblical  style. 

Third  Month  1758. 

9.  Went  into  the  coimtry  and  took  the  spiritual  book  with  me  lest  the 
natviral  should  encroach, 

10.  Struggled  and  got  to  meeting  :    Satan  avant  !    for  God  is  bringing 
forward  in  a  degree  suitable  to  con\ac.tion. 

I  have  sucked  at  the  breasts  of  thi.s  world  and  am  not  satisfied. 

Exercised  with  retention  of  fees. 

A  rarity — a  spiritual  conference  in  a  visit. 

O  for  more  of  the  chaste  tender  preserving  fear  in  drinking  ! 

Feasted  beyond  bounds. 

12.  Rose  too  late  :    O  the  dull  body  ! 

13.  This  day  an  acquaintance  broke  deeply  in  my  debt ;  the  deception 
great  and  the  loss  considerable  :   Lord  thou  has  smitten  :   sanctify  the  event. 

15.  Thus  doth  the  Lord  embitter  my  sweets  and  bring  a  partial  blast  on 
my  labours  and  why  ?  To  wean  from  the  world.  Amen.  My  friendships 
moulder. 

18.  O  what  a  favour  this  to  be  planted  in  the  true  church  out  of  Babylon 
and  its  corruptions  and  where  every  motive  draws  to  a  holy  life  agreeable  to 
the  doctrine  and  precepts  of  our  Lord. 

Seven  patients  without  a  penny  even  as  usual. 

The  references  to  drink  and  gluttony  are  very  numerous ;  we 
can  only  give  the  most  striking: 


DR.  RUTTY  217 

Feasted  again  a  little  beyond  the  sacred  medium. 
Feasting  beyond  the  holy  bounds. 

0  that  I  may  not  abuse  riches  !     Certain  it  is  I  often  have,  in  guzzling. 
Feasted,  not  innocently,  in  not  refusing  the  bumper. 

1  feasted  pretty  moderately  ;    but  with  this  notable  difference  in  sohtary 
ind  social  eating,  that  in  the  last  I  eat  more  hke  a  swine. 

An  hypochondriac  obnubilation  from  wind  and  indigestion. 

A  little  incubus  last  night  on  too  much  spinage. 

A  little  of  the  beast  in  drinking. 

Although  I  dined  with  the  saints  I  drank  rather  beyond  bounds. 

A  little  swinish  at  dinner. 

Piggish  at  meals. 

A  little  piggish  in  stuffing  with  vegetables. 

Ate  and  drank  swinishly  :   nature  wants  less. 

I  rather  exceed  in  solids  at  dinner. 

Take  care,  take  care  of  the  fumes  of  cyder  and  whiskey,  tremble  at  the 
aixtxu^e. 

Gripes  from  excess. 

A  little  of  the  beast  in  drinking. 

Ate  as  a  swine  to-day. 

The  dose  of  drink  precious  to  the  publick  meeting  was  somewhat  too  large. 

Time  after  time  he  feasts  on  "  bread  and  water  "  to  correct 
imself,  and  the  occasions  of  overeating  become  gradually  less 
requent,  till  in  later  years  we  get  the  following  entry  : 

A  sensible  advancement  in  victory  over  the  sin  that  used  so  easily  to  beset 
Pie. 

The  reports  on  temper  may  be  treated  in  the  same  way : 

Twice,  unbridled  choler. 

Weak,  and  fretful.     Licked  spittle  in  two  places  insolent  in  two  others. 

Brittle  again. 

A  sudden  eruption  of  ferocity. 

A  black  evening  :  a  fit  of  downright  anger  on  a  supposed  injury  and  for 
ont  of  timely  resisting,  it  proceeded  :    Lord  pardon. 


218  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

In-appetent  and  morbidly  peevish  with  lassitude  and  coldness. 

A  frappish  cholerick  day. 

Snappish  on  fasting. 

Cursed  snappishness  to  those  under  me  on  a  bodily  indisposition. 

Learn  to  repine  less  at  small  evils  and  flea  bites,  thou  pitiful  Jack  Straw 

Flatulent  and  cross  on  a  slight  occasion. 

Some  doggedness  on  provocation. 

Snappish.     Lord  shall  this  sin  which  so  easily  besets  be  never  never  over- 
come. 

At  my  return  home  upon  provocation  I  struck  my  servant. 

Miserably  and  sinfully  peevish  :    double  the  guard.  I 

A  little  crabbed  with  two  incurables.  j 

And  the  year  before  he  died  : 

A  sweet  whisper  that  God  will  hear  my  petition  for  freedom  from  quickness" 
to  anger.  j 

Early  rising  troubled  him  too  :  ) 

Too  idle  in  bed  to-day  :   O  flesh,  thou  clog  !  J 

Lay  a  little  too  late  for  this  day ;   rouse  soul,  death  is  at  the  door. 

Some  of  his  more  general  aphorisms  may  also  be  given  : 

I  have  been  putting  the  cart  (i.e.  the  body)  before  the  horse  (i.e.  the  soul): 
all  my  life  :   but  God  is  turning  me  about  since  my  last  signal  visitation. 

The  medical  profession  exhibits  strongly  the  vanity  and  wickedness  of  thei 
world  where  the  more  work  the  less  pay. 

O,  what  a  trial  is  prosperity  !     The  reins  must  be  held  tighter  in  time  oi< 
plenty.  $ 

Saw  myself  in  the  clear  vision  to  be  top  heavy  and  the  necessity  there  ia/ 
for  my  growing  less  in  the  branch  and  more  in  the  root. 


Spent  my  mattin  in  spiritual  fox  hunting. 


He  always  makes  a  note  about  "  meeting,"  sometimes  it  is,i 
*'  sweet,"  "  luminous,"  and  "  profitable,"  at  other  times  "  dull  "; 
and  "barren,"  and  once  "my  fire  was  almost  extinguished  byj 
my  drowsiness."     He  hates  loquacity  and  prolixity  :  i 

I  also  saw  the  vulgar  error  of  long  preaching  and  text  spinning. 

The  aft-ernoon  meeting  was  partly  silent,  partly  loquacious  ;  the  silent  part 


DR.    RUTTY  219 

was  more  edifying  than  the  preaching  ;    what  a  pity  it  is  that  some  persons 
know  not  when  to  leave  off  ! 

Disapproval  is  shown  of  play-going  and  he  rejoices  when  a  play 
house  is  converted  into  a  house  of  prayer. 

God  opened  a  way  to  deal  with  play  haunters  in  a  social  capacity  :  but  O 
the  deadness  of  our  spiritual  socios. 

Drew  up  a  paper  against  play  haunting. 

He  more  than  once  expresses  his  admiration  for  women.  On 
one  occasion  he  writes  : 

The  natural  volubility  of  that  sex  beyond  all  comparison  superior  in  effect 
to  what  is  deUvered  by  some  of  us  dull  reasoners  renders  them  far  better 
speakers  and  fitter  instrvmaents  for  a  superior  power  to  animate  and  direct. 

His  devoted  attention  to  his  poorer  patients  is  shown  in  many 
entries : 

Eight  patients  of  which  six  paupers. 

Eight  patients  but  all  pennyless. 

Eleven  visits  and  no  fee,  blessed  be  the  Lord. 

Attended  nine  patients  six  of  which  were  the  glorious  poor. 

There  is  less  about  his  own  health  than  one  would  expect  in 
the  diary  of  a  doctor.  It  may  be  noted,  perhaps  not  irrelevantly, 
that  a  treatise  De  Diarrhoea  was  his  thesis  when  he  took  his  doctor's 
degree.  In  addition  to  "  heaviness  of  the  body,"  "  vapourish 
from  indigestion,"  "  flatulence,"  etc.,  we  have  references,  as  time 
goes  on,  to  "  optical  tremours,"  and  in  1766  he  writes  : 

An  embittering  dispensation  of  sore  eyes  and  dull  ears  the  first  taking  me 
ofi  from  my  darling  delights  of  reading  and  writing  and  the  second  from 
conversation  :   Lord  I  kiss  thy  rod. 

The  old  man  keeps  up  his  vigilant  guard  over  himself  to  the 
end,  continually  asking,  "  What  lack  I  yet  ?  "  A  few  months 
before  his  death  he  is  still  concerned  at  his  "  unsubdued  ferocity," 
and  in  the  last  two  entries  he  is  still  watchful  but  hopeful : 

12th  Month  3.  1774.  Conscious  that  of  late  no  fleshly  indulgence  hath 
taken  place  :  beware  that  it  creep  not  on  now  in  the  days  of  infirmity  and 
sitting  by  the  fire  ;    I  dare  not  trust  my  own  heart. 

8.  The  voice  of  God  now  sounds  louder  in  my  great  infirmity  of  being 
scarcely  able  to  bear  the  cold. 

In  addition  to  the  ordinary  entries  in  the  diary  there  are  para- 
graphs   headed  "  Soliloquies  "  and  sometimes   "  Question  "  and 


220  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

"  Answer."  In  1768  he  inserts  "  a  short  spiritual  Chronology  " 
in  wliich  he  gives  an  account  of  the  spiritual  side  of  his  early 
life  before  he  began  to  keep  a  diary. 

Dr.  Rutty  may  have  been  spiritually  eccentric,  but  he  never 
bores  us  with  diffuse  sanctimonious  outpourings.  In  spite  of 
his  violent  self-reproach  he  was  probably  only  a  very  convivial 
and  sociable  companion.  It  would  perhaps  be  cynical  to  suggest 
that  the  passage  of  time  and  increasing  old  age  brought  in  the 
natural  course  a  mitigation  of  the  impulses  to  anger  and  excess. 
Let  us  rather  take  his  word  for  it  that  "  God  gained  ground," 
for,  as  he  says  in  his  preface,  "  Sanctification  is  not  the  work 
of  a  day  nor  a  week  nor  a  year ;  the  Christian  warfare  ceaseth 
not  but  with  our  lives." 

The  diary  was  printed  and  published  in  1776. 


MRS.   BROWNE 

Ahli  our  women  diarists  were  either  themselves  people  of 
/\  reputation  or  were  connected  with  more  or  less  eminent 
J  \  personages.  Mrs.  Browne  is  the  one  exception.  We 
know  nothing  of  her  except  what  she  tells  us  in  a  very  entertain- 
ing little  diary  she  kept  from  November  17,  1754,  to  August  4, 
1757,  which  is  contained  in  a  small  paper  book  of  not  more  than 
thirty  pages.  ^ 

Mrs.  Browne  accompanied  Braddock's  expedition  to  Virginia  and 
sailed  from  Gravesend  on  board  the  London,  on  which  her  brother 
was  one  of  the  officers.  We  gather  from  her  entries,  which  are  not 
daily  but  occasional,  that  she  had  been  a  widow  for  about  two 
years  and  had  left  her  children  behind  her  in  England.  Her 
daughter  Charlotte  dies  while  she  is  away,  which  causes  her 
great  grief.  Of  her  personal  appearance  we  catch  just  a  gUmpse 
from  the  remark  made  to  her  by  a  Quaker  whom  she  comes  across 
on  her  travels.  "  Thou  seems  full  Bulky  to  travel,"  he  says,  "  but 
thou  art  young  and  that  will  enable  thee."  Bulky  or  not,  she 
evidently  had  great  energy,  rode  and  marched  hundreds  of 
miles  and  put  up  with  extreme  discomforts  as  the  expedition 
passed  from  Bellham  to  Fort  Cumberland,  to  Frederick's  Town, 
Philadelphia,  and  New  York. 

1  The  MS.  of  this  diary  is  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  S.  A.  Courtauld  of  the 
,  Howe,  Halstead,  Essex,  by  whose  kind  permission  extracts  are  given. 


MRS.   BROWNE  221 

The  ship's  passage  occupied  from  November  17  till  March  23. 
The  London  "  was  laden  with  stores  for  the  hospital." 

Mrs.  Browne  is  interested  in  humanity  and  has  a  gossipy 
style.  We  learn  a  good  deal  about  some  of  her  fellow-passengers, 
their  behaviour,  their  quarrels,  which  she  calls  "squalls,"  and 
other  incidents  of  the  voyage.     Her  troubles  begin  early : 

Dec.  5.  At  4  in  the  morning  made  Mizen  Head  and  we  all  expected  to 
have  been  lost.  I  being  Mr.  Cherrington's  Banker  he  came  to  my  state  room 
and  said  ;  Mrs.  Browne  get  up  and  if  you  please  put  my  Pm-se  in  your  Pockett. 
But  remember  Lady  you  are  not  dressing  for  court.  I  dressed  myself  immedi- 
ately and  came  on  Deck  and  fomid  ray  brother  tying  two  Planks  together  for 
us  to  set  upon  but  at  last  we  happily  got  clear. 

Mr.  Cherrington,  of  whom  we  shall  hear  a  good  deal  more, 
seems  generally  to  have  been  mixed  up  in  the  rows.  Here  are 
some  of  the  "  squalls  "  : 

Being  Sunday  Mr.  Cherrington  and  Mr.  Bass  had  a  SquaU  on  Deck.  Mr. 
Bass  had  severall  times  given  hints  of  Miss  Davis,  a  friendly  fair  of  Mr.  Cherring- 
ton's. He  insisted  on  his  explaining  himself  wliich  Mr.  Bass  did  but  not  in 
the  lady's  favour.  Many  ill-natured  Truths  were  said.  Mr.  Bass  was  forbid 
coming  into  the  Cabin  ;  but  he  told  him  he  had  as  much  right  as  himself,  so 
he  kept  his  footing,  but  Mr.  Cherrington  not  being  able  to  bear  the  insolence 
of  the  little  fellow  mov'd  off  to  Cork. 

Being  Sunday  a  great  Squall  on  Deck  between  Mr  Cherrington  and  Capt. 
Browne  it  began  about  the  loss  of  some  water  gruel  and  ended  with  the  great 
favour  I  had  rec'd  to  have  my  Cabbin  in  the  Steerage. 

A  great  squall  on  Deck  with  Mr.  Lash  the  Mate  and  Mr.  Black  the  Qerk 
of  the  Hospital!  about  the  tapping  of  some  Beer,  Mr.  Lash  ordered  it  to  be 
tap'd  Mr.  Black  forbid  it.  At  which  Mr.  Lash  in  a  great  rage  told  him  that 
It  was  as  thick  as  Hell  and  he  should  never  taste  it,  that  it  was  but  the  other 
day  he  carried  a  knot  on  his  Back  but  now  he  was  so  much  on  his  Hizy  Prizy 
there  was  no  speaking  to  him.  The  day  ended  with  a  Dispute  in  the  Cabbin 
with  Mr.  Cherrington  and  Mr.  Couch. 

In  another  dispute  Mr.  Cherrington  said  :  "  It  was  not  clear 
to  him  why  so  many  of  his  sheep  should  die  and  not  one  of  ours." 
Later,  however,  one  of  his  sheep  "  brought  forth  a  fine  lamb." 

Mr.  Couch  is  a  gentleman  who  suffers  terribly  from  sea  sick- 
ness and  remains  in  his  cabin, 

deep  in  the  Horrors  and  wiU  neither  eat,  drink  or  speak  and  is  at  a  loss  to  tell 
whether  he  is  aJive  or  dead. 

Mrs.  Browne  has  to  discharge  her  maid  Betty  when  she  arrives 
in  Bellhaven, 


222  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

having  found  of  mine  in  her  box  a  pair  of  Ruffles,  a  pair  of  stockings  and  an 
apron. 

To  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barbut  she  makes  rather  sarcastic  references. 
They  were  evidently  late  risers. 

Mr.  Barbut  up  and  a  mending  of  stockings  his  wife  fast  asleep. 

And  when  there  is  bad  weather, 

the  reason  of  it  was,  as  the  Men  say  because  Mr.  Barbut  heav'd  out  so  soon 
being  up  before  11. 

Mrs.  Barbut  up  by  8  this  morning  but  the  sailors  desired  her  to  tumble  in 
again  or  else  they  should  have  a  bad  wind. 

But  Mrs.  Barbut's  intellectual  powers  must  have  been  sur- 
prising, judging  by  the  follo'W'ing  entry  : 

Mr.  Cherrington  learnt  Mrs.  Barbut  to  read  and  construe  Greek  in  an  Hour. 

Or  perhaps  it  was  Mr.  Cherrington's  remarkable  skill  as  a 
teacher. 

Some  months  after  their  arrival  Mrs.  Browne  comes  across 
Mrs.  Barbut  again  in  Philadelphia. 

Nov.  28.  My  old  shipmate  Mrs.  Barbut  came  to  see  me  but  she  was  so  full 
of  engagements  she  could  not  afford  me  an  Hour  of  her  Company.  She  was 
dressed  like  a  Butterfly  which  put  me  in  mind  of  June  instead  of  November. 

At  Frederick's  Town  in  Maryland  she  goes  to  a  Ball, 

which  was  eompos'd  of  Romans,  Jews  and  Hereticks  who  in  this  town  flock 
together.  The  Ladys  danced  without  Stays  or  Hoops  and  it  ended  with  a 
Jig  from  each  Lady. 

Drink  specially  on  board  ship  figures  very  prominently.  There 
is  great  lamentation  when  it  is  discovered  that  thirty  gallons  of 
brandy  had  run  out : 

Pompey  the  Negroe  all  most  tum'd  white  on  the  thoughts  of  it  but  Mr. 
Lash  the  Mate  said  it  was  all  run  to  Hell  but  they  should  have  good  Grog  the 
next  time  that  they  pump'd  the  Ship.  '4 

Mr.  Black  "  drank  so  much  grog  he  was  at  a  loss  how  to  go  to  * 
bed."     And  there  are  two  references  to  the  Parson  which  show 
he  was  not  an  abstainer :  ^ 

Simday  but  had  no  Prayers  till  afternoon  our  Parson  being  indispos'd  by 
drinking  too  much  grog  the  night  before. 

And  later  ashore : 

The  officer  and  the  Parson  replenished  their  Bowl  so  often  that  they  began 


MRS.   BROWNE  223 

to  be  very  joyous  tmtill  their  Servant  told  them  that  their  Horses  were  lost 
at  which  the  Parson  much  inrag'd  and  pop'd  out  an  oath. 

Mr.  Cherrington,  however,  was  able  to  withstand  the  allure- 
ments of  drink.     When  they  cast  anchor  in  Hampton  Roads, 

4  officers  came  on  Board  ;    drank  out  15  Bottles  of  Port  :   all  in  the  Cabbin 
I  drunk  (but  Mr.  Cherrington). 

We  lose  sight  of  Mr.  Cherrington  for  awhile  after  the  landing. 
But  Mrs.  Browne  is  joined  by  her  old  friend  again  on  the  journey 
to  Philadelphia. 

We  supt  and  desired  to  have  2  Beds  but  the  Mistress  of  the  house  said  she 
presumed  we  were  Man  and  Wife  and  that  one  would  do.  Mr.  Cherrington 
said  it  was  true  I  was  his  Wife  but  it  was  very  seldom  he  was  favoured  with 
part  of  my  Bed.  She  said  she  was  sorry  of  it  and  at  last  complied.  I  was 
favoured  with  a  Bed  of  Down  and  Mr.  Cherrington  with  a  Bed  of  Straw. 

At  another  inn  : 

Mr.  Cherrington  and  I  not  being  of  the  same  opinion  as  to  my  Sex  in  general 
we  had  many  Disputes.  Several  Ill-natured  Truths  were  said  on  both  Sides. 
It  ended  with  my  telling  him  he  did  nothing  but  say  and  unsay  and  that  he 
was  so  luiaccountable  a  riddle  I  knew  not  what  to  make  of  him.  He  made  a 
low  Bow  and  said  he  was  much  obliged  to  me  and  retired. 

In  spite  of  Mr.  Cherrington's  apparently  quarrelsome  dis- 
position Mrs.  Browne  was  devoted  to  him,  and  when  he  returns 
home  she  writes : 

Dec.  1.  1756.  Mr.  Cherrington  left  Albany  for  England  in  whom  I  have 
lost  all  my  friends  in  one. 

After  the  death  of  her  brother  in  July,  1755,  she  sometimes 
finds  her  position  misunderstood.     At  New  York,  for  instance : 

The  Dutch  had  a  very  bad  opinion  of  me  saying  I  could  not  be  good  to  come 
so  far  without  a  husband. 

The  Dutch  said  I  was  General  Braddock's  Miss  but  she  [Miss  Miller  an  old 
friend]  has  convinced  them  that  I  was  not  for  that  her  Father  had  known  me 
Maid,  Wife  and  Widow  and  that  nobody  could  say  anything  bad  of  me. 

Mrs.  Browne  makes  brief  notes  with  regard  to  the  military 
events  and  the  fighting,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  the  diary  her 
personal  remarks  are  less  frequent.  Her  health  suffers  a  good 
Ideal  from  the  hardship  of  riding  and  marching  and  many  entries 
are  taken  up  with  comments  on  her  "  disorder."  She  ends  her 
diary  abruptly  on  August  4,  1757,  with  the  words  :  *'  There 
ends  my  Journal  having  so  much  Business  on  my  Hands  that  I 


224  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

cannot  spare  the  Time  to  write  it."  What  her  "  business  "  was 
is  not  clear,  but  we  very  much  regret  that  it  should  have  pre- 
vented her  from  continuing  her  very  human  and  amusing  little 
record.  Mrs.  Browne's  diary  is  far  better  worth  printing  than 
many  of  the  diaries  that  have  been  pubhshed. 


HENRY   FIELDING 

THE  author  of  Tom  Jones  was  not  a  regular  diarist,  but 
we  have  from  his  pen  published  after  his  death  a  brief 
journal  of  his  voyage  to  Lisbon.  This  voyage  was 
undertaken  at  the  end  of  his  life  in  1754.  when  he  was  suffering 
acutely  from  dropsy  and  the  doctors  had  recommended  him  to 
seek  a  milder  climate.  So  ill  was  he  that  he  had  completely  lost 
the  use  of  his  limbs  and  had  to  be  hoisted  like  a  dead  weight  or 
carried  about  helplessly  in  a  chair.  He  had  to  undergo  the. 
operation  of  being  tapped  frequently,  and  to  all  intents  and 
purposes  he  was  a  dying  man,  and  what  is  more  he  knew  it.  Added 
to  this  the  discomforts  on  the  ship  were  unusual  even  for  those 
days,  and  owing  to  the  vagaries  of  the  wind  the  voyage  occupied 
no  less  than  fifty  days.  It  is  astonishing  in  the  circumstances 
that  he  should  have  written  at  all.  "  Yet,"  as  Mr.  Austin  Dob- 
son  says,  "  so  indomitable  is  his  gallantry  of  spirit,  so  irrepres- 
sible his  joy  of  life,  so  insatiable  still  his  '  curious  '  eye  for 
humanity  that  a  fresh  face  or  a  new  sensation  makes  the  old  fire 
flame  up  once  more  and  he  writes  as  if  he  had  not  a  care  in  the 
world."  His  own  description  of  himself,  however,  on  his  de- 
parture is  sufficiently  harrowing  :  jjj 

Upon  my  entrance  into  the  boat  I  presented  a  spectacle  of  the  highest 
horror.  The  total  loss  of  limbs  was  apparent  to  all  who  saw  me  and  my  face 
contained  marks  of  a  most  diseased  state  if  not  of  death  itself.  Indeed  so 
ghastly  was  my  countenance  that  timorous  women  with  child  had  abstained 
from  my  house  for  fear  of  the  ill  consequences  of  looking  at  me. 

He  describes  the  captain  : 

He  wore  a  sword  of  no  ordinary  length  by  his  side  with  which  he  swaggered 
in  his  cabin  among  the  wretches  his  passengers  whom  he  had  stowed  in  cup- 
boards on  each  side.  He  was  a  person  of  very  singular  character.  He  had 
taken  it  into  his  head  that  he  was  a  gentleman  from  those  very  reasons  that 
proved  he  was  not  one  ;  and  to  shew  himself  a  fine  gentleman  by  a  behaviour 
which  seemed  to  insinuate  he  had  never  seen  one. 


HENRY  FIELDING  225 

The  wind  being  unfavourable  thev  hung  about  the  English 
coast  off  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  off  Devonshire  till  late  in  July 
Every  incident  is  described,  the  captain's  moods  and  tempers, 
the  food  and  the  storms  ;  and  one  is  often  made  to  forget  the 
state  of  health  of  the  writer  himself.  A  series  of  extracts  touch- 
ing on  some  of  the  incidents  will  give  an  idea  of  this  singular 
journal : 

My  poor  wife  after  passing  a  night  in  the  utmost  torments  of  the  toothache 
resolved  to  have  it  drawn.  I  dispatched,  therefore,  a  servant  to  Wapping  to 
bring  in  haste,  the  best  toothdrawer  he  could  find.  He  soon  found  out  a 
female  of  great  eminence  in  the  art ;  but  when  he  brought  her  to  the  boat  at 
the  waterside  they  were  informed  that  the  ship  was  gone. 

My  wife  continued  the  whole  day  in  a  state  of  dozing  ;  and  my  other  females 
whose  sickness  did  not  abate  by  the  roUing  of  the  ship  at  anchor  seemed  more 
inclined  to  empty  their  stomachs  than  to  fill  them.  Thus  I  passed  the  whole 
day  by  myself  and  the  evening  concluded  with  the  captain. 

"A  mxost  tragical  incident  "  takes  place.  A  kitten  falls  over- 
board. The  sails  are  slackened  and  all  hands  are  employed  to 
recover  the  poor  animal.  Fielding  expresses  his  surprise  at  the 
captain's  "  extreme  tenderness,"  and  remarks  :  "  If  puss  had 
had  nine  thousand  instead  of  nine  hves  I  concluded  they  had  all 
been  lost."  A  sailor  jumps  overboard  and  returns  with  the  cat 
m  his  mouth.  At  first  the  cat  shows  no  signs  of  life,  and  the 
captain 

having  felt  his  loss  like  a  man  he  resolved  to  show  he  could  bear  it  hke  one 
and  having  declared  he  had  rather  have  lost  a  cask  of  ram  or  brandy,  betook 
himself  to  threshing  at  backgammon  with  the  Portuguese  friar. 

Subsequently  the  cat  recovers,  "  to  the  great  joy  of  the  good 
captain." 

After  a  dinner  off  beans  and  bacon  in  a  barn  near  Ryde  he 
writes  : 

We  completed  the  best,  the  pleasantest  and  the  merriest  meal  with  more 
appetite,  more  real  solid  luxury  and  more  festivity  than  was  ever  seen  in  an 
entertainment  at  White's. 

The  description  of  Mrs.  Humphrys,  the  farmer's  wife,  with 
whom  they  lodged  at  Ryde,  is  in  the  novehst's  best  style.  Part 
of  it  must  be  given  : 

She  was  a  short  squat  woman  ;  her  head  was  closely  joined  to  her  shoulders 
where  it  was  fixed  somewhat  awry  ;  every  feature  of  her  countenance  was 
sharp  and  pointed  ;  her  face  was  furrowed  with  the  smallpox  ;  and  her 
complexion  which  seemed  to  be  able  to  turn  milk  to  curds  not  a  little  resembled 
15 


A' 


226  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

in  colour  such  milk  as  had  already  undergone  that  operation.  She  appeared 
indeed  to  have  many  symptoms  of  a  deep  jaundice  in  her  look  ;  but  the 
strenc-th  and  firmness  of  her  voice  overbalanced  them  all.  ...  She  differed 
as  I  have  said  in  every  particular  from  her  husband  ;  but  very  remarkably 
in  this,  that  as  it  was  impossible  to  displease  him,  so  it  was  impossible  to 
please  her  ;  and  as  no  art  could  remove  a  smile  from  his  countenance,  so 
could  no  art  carry  it  into  hers. 

The  continued  delays  exasperate  the  captain : 

The  Captain  now  grew  outrageous  and  declaring  open  war  with  the  wind 
took  a  resolution  more  bold  than  wise  of  saiUng  in  defiance  of  it  ajid  m  its 
teeth  The  wind  began  in  the  captain's  own  language  to  freshen  :  and 

indeed  it  freshened  so  much  that  before  ten  it  blew  a  perfect  hurricane  .  .  .  and 
continued  to  blow  with  such  violence  that  the  ship  ran  above  eight  knots  an 
hour  during  this  whole  day  and  tempestuous  night  tiU  bed  time.  I  was 
obliged  to  betake  myself  once  more  to  my  solitude  ;  for  my  women  were  again 
all  down  in  their  sea  sickness  and  the  captain  was  busy  on  deck. 

He  realises  that  there  is  danger,  and  says 

this  would  have  given  no  small  alarm  to  a  man  who  had  either  not  learnt  what 
it  is  to  die  or  known  what  it  is  to  be  miserable.  And  my  dear  wife  and  child 
must  pardon  me  if  what  I  did  not  conceive  to  be  any  great  evil  to  myself  1 
was  not  much  terrified  with  the  thoughts  of  happening  to  them. 

He  adds  the  following  remark  which  shows  that  he  was  writing 

for  publication : 

Can  I  say  that  I  had  no  fear  ;  indeed  I  cannot,  reader,  I  was  afraid  for  thee 
lest  thou  shouldst  have  been  deprived  of  that  pleasure  thou  art  now  enjoying. 

But  after  all  this  storm  they  were  still  off  the  coast  of  Devon- 
shire. Fielding  buys  cider  and  the  captain  "  drest  himself  m 
scarlet"  and  went  off  to  pay  a  visit  to  a  Devonshire  squire. 
However,  although  the  captain  declares  the  ship  is  bewitched, 
they  do  eventually  get  away.  They  encounter  more  foul 
weather  in  which  the  unfortunate  invalid  suffers  and  the  captam 
appears  to  be  quite  unsympathetic. 

We  went  only  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour  but  with  so  uneasy  a  motion 
continually  rolling  from  side  to  side  that  I  suffered  more  than  I  had  done  in 
our  whole  voyage  ;  my  bowels  being  ahnost  twisted  out  of  my  beUy.  How- 
ever the  day  was  very  serene  and  bright  and  the  captain  who  was  m  high 
spirits  affirmed  he  had  never  passed  a  pleasanter  at  sea. 

At  last  they  arrive,  but  Lisbon  does  not  appeal  to  him  : 

About  seven  in  the  evening  I  got  into  a  chaise  on  shore  and  was  driven 
through  the  nastiest  city  in  the  world. 

Fielding  died  within  two  months  of  his  arrival. 


THOMAS   TURNER  227 

The  diary  is  not  exclusively  taken  up  with  a  recital  of  incidents 
ot  the  voyage,  there  are  long  digressions,  some  of  them  entirely 
irrelevant ;  they  are  partly  political  and  controversial  and  partly 
philosophic  There  is  a  disquisition  on  cider,  on  the  morals  of 
sailors,  on  the  career  of  a  ship's  captain  and  on  liberty 

Two  versions  of  the  diary  were  published.  The  first  one  in  which 
passages  were  suppressed  was  issued  in  1755,  and  a  longer  version 
111   X  /  o^* 

Considering  the  circumstances,  the  Journal  may  not  be  classed 
among  Fielding  s  best  works,  but  it  discloses  his  character,  his 
tortitude,  and  his  patience,  and  gives  us  more  knowledge  of  him 
than  can  be  derived  from  his  other  books. 


THOMAS   TURNER 


T,URNER  kept  a  general  store  at  East  Hoathly,  Sussex. 
He  was  born  at  Groombridge,  in  Kent,  in  1728.  His 
diary,  which  was  originally  contained  in  one  hundred 
l?.t  T,^l  "memorandum  books,  of  which  only  a  few  have  been 
lost  extends  over  a  period  of  eleven  years  from  February  2   1754 

7r.Tli.^'  ^^^f*  ^^  '',^"  amazing  production,  containing  as  it 
does  the  most  outspoken  confessions  combined  with  almost 
riaiculous  pemtence  and  pretentious  morahsing.  While  he 
treats  his  diary  as  a  sort  of  confessional,  at  the  same  time  he  re- 

mT.t  "T/  rf  ^  '^'''^'-  ^''  '^'^''^y^  °f  ^hich  his  style 
might  at  first  make  one  suspicious,  is  unquestionable.  At  the 
same  time  Turner  was  writing  dehberately  for  posterity  ("  those 

tW  T^  1  ?P'?-  ^"^  P"'"'"  "^y  "'"^^^'^  ")  ^nd  hoped  no  doubt 
that  the  elaboration  of  his  remorse  might  outweigh  the  gravity 

1  btirrf  'P'"'-  ^"^^  ™  ^"  ^^"^^^'  ^"d  it  may  well  be 
doubted  If  he  ever  conquered  it.  His  stilted  and  sententious 
style  can  be  explained  by  the  fact  that  he  was  a  great  reader 

T^:\r  1^"  r'^'"^'^  ""'"^^  ^^^^^^  ^d--te<^  He  "eaS 
poetry,  theology  history  and  novels  and  with  obvious  enjoyment. 

thinf  ?w\  TC  *"ir^''  "  '  ^°°^  "P«^^  -'  -  ^^^y  ^e"  wrote 
thing  tho    It  must  be  allowed  it  is  too  prolix  " 

He  gives  long  extracts  from  Pope's  translation  of  the  Odyssey, 

™T  ?  %  ^Tl-^l  ^'''^''^  ^  Mamtenon,  he  reads  out 

Tilhtson  s  Sermons  to  his  friends,  he  reads  the  last  book  of  Para- 


228  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

dise  Lost  twice  and  says,  "  it  exceeds  anything  I  ever  read  for 
sublimity  of  language  and  beauty  of  similies."  As  You  Like  It, 
Othello,  and  the  Taming  of  the  Shrew  are  commended  by  him,  and 
many  other  books  are  mentioned.  In  fact,  he  confesses  to  a 
too  great  delight  in  reading."  ,     .     ,   j  i 

He  draws  up  rules  of  proper  regimen,  which  include  early 
rising,  an  abstemious  diet,  moderation  in  drinking,  and  "  always 
to  go  to  bed  at  or  before  ten  o'clock."  The  spirit,  in  fact,  seems 
constantly  to  have  been  wilhng,  but  the  flesh  was  extraordin- 
arily weak  even  for  the  eighteenth  century.  His  lapses  are 
always  recorded  with  the  immediate  renewal  of  resolution. 

Came  home  drunk  ;  but  I  think  never  to  exceed  the  bounds  of  moderation 
more. 

We  drank  one  bowl  of  punch  and  two  muggs  of  bumboo  and  I  came  home 
in  liquor  Oh  with  what  horrors  does  it  fill  my  heart  to  think  I  should  be 
guilty  of  doing  so  and  on  a  Sunday  too  !  Let  me  once  more  endeavour  never, 
no  never,  to  be  guilty  of  the  same  again. 

Not  quite  so  sober  at  home  all  day  and  I  know  I  behaved  like  an  ass  .  .  .not 
like  one  that  caUa  himself  a  Christian.  Oh,  how  unworthy  I  am  of  that 
name. 

What  can  I  say  in  my  own  behalf  for  getting  drunk  ?  Sure  I  am  a  direct 
fool. 

I  cannot  say  I  came  home  sober  though  I  was  far  from  being  bad  company. 

I  came  home  but  to  my  shame  do  I  say  it  very  much  inhquor  [and  next 
day].     Pretty  bad  aU  day  with  the  stings  of  a  guilty  and  tormentmg  conscience. 

I  came  home  after  eleven  after  staying  in  Mr.  Porter's  wood  near  an  hour 
and  a  half  the  hquer  opperating  so  much  in  the  head  that  it  made  my  lega^> 
useless. 

But  it  would  be  unfair  not  to  give  instances  in  which  he  did 
control  himself,  though  in  the  first  quotation  the  word  sober^ 
seems  to  be  used  in  a  relative  sense.  \ 

We  came  hom^I  may  say  quite  sober  considering  the  house  ^e  was  at  " 
though  undoubtedly  the  worst  for  drinking  and  having  I  beheve  contracted  a 
siighf  inpediment  in  my  speech,  occasioned  by  the  fumes  of  the  hquor  operating 
too  furiously  on  my  brain.  || 

Thank  God  very  sober  as  was  aU  the  company  (except  Dame  Durrant). 

Came  home  about  three  minutes  past  twelve-sober.     Oh,  how  comfortable 
does  that  word  sound  in  my  ears  ! 

The  orgies  he  describes  in  great  detail  show  that  his  friends  and 
acquaintances  were  no  better  than  he  was  himself. 


THOMAS   TURNER  229 

After  supper  our  behaviour  was  far  from  that  of  serious,  harmless  mirth  ; 
it  was  downright  obstreperious  mixed  with  a  great  deal  of  folly  and  stupidity. 
Our  diversion  was  dancing  or  jiunping  about  without  a  violin  or  any  musick 
singing  of  foolish  healths  and  drinking  all  the  time  as  fast  as  it  could  be  potu-ed 
down  and  the  parson  of  the  parish  (Mr.  Porter)  was  among  the  mixed  multitude 
[Then  follow  the  usual  qualms  of  conscience.] 

But  three  days  later  Mr.  Porter,  his  wife  and  a  party  turned 
up  at  Turner's  house,  burst  into  his  bedroom,  and 

drew  me  out  of  bed,  as  the  common  phrase  is  topsy  tm-vey  ;  but  however  afc 
the  intercession  of  Mr.  Porter  they  permitted  me  to  put  on  my  .  ,  .  and  instead 
of  my  upper  cloaths  they  gave  me  time  to  put  on  my  wife's  petticoats  and  in 
this  manner  they  made  rae  dance  without  shoes  and  stockings  untill  they  had 
emptied  the  bottle  of  wine  and  also  a  bottle  of  my  beer  [he  goes  on  to  express 
horror  and  indignation  ending  a  propos  of  Mr.  Porter]  '  the  precepts  delivered 
from  the  pulpit  on  Sunday  tho'  delivered  with  the  greatest  ardour  must  lose 
a  great  deal  of  their  efficacy  by  such  examples.' 

We  continued  drinking  like  horses,  as  the  vulgar  phrase  is,  and  singing  till 
many  of  us  were  very  drunk,  and  then  we  went  to  dancing  and  pulling  of  wigs, 
caps,  and  hats  ;  and  thus  we  continued  in  this  frantic  manner  behaving  more 
like  mad  people  than  they  that  profess  the  name  of  Christians. 

Other  orgies  at  Mr.  Porter's  house  and  at  his  own  house  are 
recorded,  and  he  sums  up : 

Now  I  hope  all  revelling  for  this  season  is  over  ;  and  may  I  never  more  be 
discomposed  with  so  much  drink  or  by  the  noise  of  an  obstreperous  mioltitude 
but  that  I  may  calm  my  troubled  mind  and  sooth  my  disturbed  conscience. 

The  celebrations  of  victories  were  also  occasions  for  intemperate 
rejoicing.  Mr.  Coates,  the  Duke  of  Newcastle's  agent  at  Hal- 
land,  invited  them  all  to  several  feasts.  Turner  always  goes, 
though  he  knows  beforehand  what  the  result  will  be  : 

If  I  goe,  I  must  drink  just  as  they  please  or  otherwise,  I  shall  be  called  a 
poor  singular  fellow.  If  I  stay  at  home  I  shall  be  stigmatised  with  the  name 
of  being  a  poor,  proud,  ill-natured  wretch  and  perhaps  disoblige  Mr.  Coates. 

The  Duke  himself  gives  a  banquet.  Turner  was  not  one  of 
the  guests,  but  no  doubt  he  was  helping  Mr.  Coates. 

1759.  Stmday  Aug.  5.  I  spent  most  part  of  the  day  in  going  to  and  fro 
from  Halland  there  being  a  public  day  where  there  was  to  dine  with  his  Grace 
the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  the  Earls  of  Ashbumham  and  Northampton,  Lord 
Viscoimt  Gage,  the  Lord  Abergavenny  and  two  judges  of  assize,  and  a  great 
number  of  gentlemen  there  being,  I  think  upward  of  forty  coaches  chariots 
etc.  I  came  home  about  seven  not  thoroughly  sober.  I  think  it  is  a  scene 
that  loudly  calls  for  the  detestation  of  the  serious  and  considerating  people 
to  see  the  sabbath  prophaned  and  turned  into  a  day  of  luxury  and  debauchery ; 
there  being  no  less  than  ten  cooks,  four  of  which  were  French,  and  perhaps 


230  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

fifty  more,  as  busy  as  if  it  had  been  a  rejoicing  day.  There  was  such  hazzaing 
that  made  the  very  foundations  almost  of  the  hovise  to  shake  and  all  this  by 
the  order  and  the  approbation  of  almost  the  next  man  to  the  King.  Oh  ! 
What  countenance  does  such  behaviour  in  a  person  of  liis  Grace's  rank  give 
to  levity  drunkenness  and  all  sorts  of  immorality. 

Turner's  married  life  was  not  harmonious,  and  his  mother-in- 
law,  Mrs.  Slater,  made  matters  worse  by  "  having  a  very  great 
volubility  of  tongue  for  invective  and  especially  if  I  am  the  sub- 
ject."    Having  had  "  words  "  with  his  wife  (Peggy)  he  writes  : 

Oh  what  happiness  must  there  be  in  the  married  state  when  there  is  a  sincere 
regard  on  both  sides  and  each  partie  truly  satisfied  with  each  other's  merits  ! 
But  it  is  imioossible  for  tongue  or  pen  to  express  the  uneasiness  that  attends 
the  contrary. 

However,  he  confesses  that  in  spite  of  "  anemosityes  and 
disentions  "  were  he  single  he  would  do  the  same  again — "  I 
mean,  make  her  my  wife  who  is  so  now." 

I  think  I  have  tried  all  experiments  to  make  our  life's  happy  but  they  have 
all  failed.  The  opposition  seems  to  be  nattu-ally  in  our  tempers — not  arising 
from  spitefulness  but  an  opposition  that  seems  indicated  by  our  very  make 
and  constitution. 

Peggy  after  a  period  in  which  she  is  "  prodigiously  "  ill  dies, 
and  her  husband  with  characteristic  remorse  displays  the  warmest 
affection  for  her  memory. 

How  do  I  lament  my  present  irregvilar  and  very  unpleasant  life  for  what  I 
used  to  lead  in  my  dear  Peggy's  time. 

Oh  !  How  pleasant  was  the  even  spent  after  a  busy  day  in  my  dear  Peggy's 
time. 

He  finds  that  in  solitude  "  a  certain  roughness  and  boisterous- 
ness  of  disposition  has  seized  my  mind,"  and  that  he  is  reduced 
to  a  "  great  degree  of  moroseness  that  is  neither  agreeable  to 
myself  nor  can  my  company  be  so  to  others."  In  fact  he  cannot 
get  on  without  "  the  company  of  the  more  softer  sex,"  so  he 
begins  courting  Molly  Hicks,  "  my  charmer."  But  he  has 
doubts : 

This  courting  does  not  well  agree  with  my  constitution  and  perhaps  it  may 
be  only  taking  pains  to  create  more  pains. 

However,  he  marries  Molly  on  June  19,  1765,  and  on  July  3 
he  writes : 

I  have,  it's  true,  not  married  a  learned  lady  nor  is  she  a  gay  one,  but  I  trust 
she  is  good  natured  and  one  that  will  use  her  utmost  endeavour  to  make  me 


JOHN  DAWSON  231 

happy.  As  to  her  fortvme,  I  shall  one  day  have  something  considerable  and 
there  seems  to  be  rather  a  flowing  stream.  Well,  here  let  us  drop  the  subject 
and  begin  a  new  one. 

But  here,  unfortunately,  the  diary  ends,  so  we  do  not  know 
whether  he  was  as  happy  with  Molly  Hicks  as  he  imagined  him- 
self to  have  been  with  Peggy,  after  her  death;  nor  do  we  learn 
whether  he  ever  conquered  the  sad  habit  which  caused  him  so 
many  stings  of  conscience. 

We  have  only  space  for  the  above  quotations  on  reading, 
drink,  and  marriage,  but  Turner  writes  much  else  about  his 
business  and  its  ups  and  downs,  about  race  meetings,  journeys, 
and  local  customs  and  incidents.  And  he  moralises  in  his  enter- 
taining way  about  all  his  pursuits  as  well  as  about  public  events. 

The  manuscript  of  the  diary  is  in  the  possession  of  his  des- 
cendants and  was  communicated  in  1859  to  the  Sussex  Archaeo- 
logical Society. 


JOHN    DAWSON 

JOHN  DAWSON,  of  Brunton,  only  kept  a  diary  from  March 
8  to  December  31,  1761.  When  the  Northumberland  Mihtia 
was  first  embodied  in  1759  under  an  Act  of  Parhament  passed 
30  George  II,  John  Dawson  was  appointed  to  be  captain  of 
a  Tynedale  Company.  The  diary  is  almost  exclusively  concerned 
with  the  doings  of  the  militia  during  the  year  1761.  The  entries 
are  recorded  daily  throughout  the  whole  period,  but  they  are 
very  brief,  giving  notes  of  mob  risings,  riots,  trials,  punishments, 
courts  martial,  etc.,  and  the  names  of  the  people  with  whom  he 
came  in  contact.  Judging  by  the  first  half-dozen  entries,  how- 
ever, Dawson  seems  at  first  to  have  intended  to  keep  a  very  much 
fuller  journal  containing  his  views  and  opinions.  For  instance, 
on  March  6  he  writes  : 

Surely  the  best  scholars  are  the  best  citizens  for  here  I  find  those  whose 
minds  are  least  cultivated  are  absolutely  very  indifferent  company  ;  I  should 
say  dangerous  company — half  an  hour  is  badly  spent  amongst  many  of  them. 
Surely  it  may  be  called,  without  impropriety,  premeditated  murder  of  time. 

And  again  the  next  day  : 

Awakened  this  morning  about  4  o'clock  and  arose  at  6.  Without  a  good 
knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  a  man  never  can  make  a  tolerable  figure  in 
Society  ;  the  best  and  wisest  men  have  been  in  all  ages  and  in  all  nations  the 


232  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

strongest  advocates  for  the  sacred  writings  but  with  the  abandoned  and 
ignorant  we  find  the  reverse.  A  man  starving  of  hunger  would  be  deem'd  a 
madman  to  refuse  victuals  offered  to  him  but  how  must  we  term  a  man  who 
refuses  to  eat  of  the  bread  of  life  to  whom  immortality  is  offered  and  yet 
rejected.     What  fools  men  are  ! 

Then  comes  on  the  same  day  "  this  morning  I  attended  a  court 
martial,"  and  unfortunately  never  again  up  to  the  close 'of  the 
diary  does  Dawson  give  any  of  his  illuminating  philosophic  re- 
flections, even  though  on  several  days  the  only  entry  is  "at  home 
all  day  "  and  two  or  three  times  "  peace  and  quietness."  The 
bald  daily  record  hardly  contains  even  any  descriptive  epithets. 
On  one  occasion  he  makes  a  fuller  note ;  it  discloses  the  sort  of 
atmosphere  he  lived  in,  which  cannot  have  been  conducive  to 
philosopliic  reflection. 

June  6,     N.B.     Mr.  Soulsbye  came  to  town  last  Thursday  ;    he  had  not 
been  10  minutes  in  the  room  till  he  saw  : — 

1.  The  Mayor  of  Berwick  and  Captain  Romer  ready  for  a  boxing  match. 

2.  Noise,  Drunkenness  and  confusion. 

3.  The  Major  down  with  his  breeches  and  up  with  his  shirt  and  shew'd  his 
beUy  above  the  navel. 

4.  The  major  mob'd  at  night  and  N.B.  Major  damn  your  soul,  what  do  you 
want.     Major  steady.  Major  steady  Saturday  evening  for  ever. 

Apart  from  his  official  duties  he  seems  to  have  been  super- 
intending his  son  Jack's  education. 

Oct.  2.  Still  reading  the  English  grammar  with  Jack. 

Oct.  7.  Jack  began  to  write  and  construe  his  Propria  quae  maribus  this 
morning. 

Nov.  23.  I  find  from  Mr.  Rumney's  conversation  that  my  son  Jack  follows 
the  very  method  of  Mr.  Romney's  scholars  as  to  the  preter  perfect  tense  and 
supines  of  which  he  was  master  some  time  ago. 

Dec.  25.     Jack  began  Cordery  on  Wednesday  sen*  night. 

The  diary  ends  :  "  Here  I  finish  this  journal  begun  the  8th  of 
March  last  past.     My  fingers  still  very  weak." 

The  Rev.  Thomas  Stephens,  vicar  of  Horsley  in  Ridesdale, 
communicated  extracts  of  the  diary  to  the  Proceedings  of  the 
Newcastle  Antiquarian  Society  and  it  also  appears  in  the  Surtees 
Society's  collection. 

It  is  one  of  those  diaries  in  which  the  little  glimpses  of  the 
writer's  personality  make  one  regret  there  is  not  more. 


LADY  MARY  COKE  233 

LADY  MARY  COKE 

THE  voluminous  journal  kept  by  Lady  Mary  Coke  ex- 
tends from  1766  to  1791.     It  is  written  for  the  most  part 
m  the  form  of  letters  to  her  sister,  Lady  Strafford,  and 
was  actually  despatched  to  her  from  time  to  time.     On  Lady 
Strafford  s  death  the  journal  was  addressed  to  Lord  Strafford. 
When  he  died  Lady  Mary  Coke  discontinued  writing  her  journal 
As  there  is  consciousness  throughout  of  an  almost  immediate 
recipient,  the  diary  has  none  of  the  features  of  the  usual  private 
diary,  and  as  it  is  written  practically  daily,  it  has  none  of  the 
merits  of  a  general  survey  which  a  letter  can  give.     In  fact    it 
falls  between  two  stools  and  has  very  little  to  recommend' it. 
l.ady  Mary  Coke  was  the  daughter  of  John,  Duke  of  Argyll  •  she 
was  born  in  1726.     When  she  was  21  she  married  Viscount  Coke 
and  after  two  years  of  constant  disagreement  they  separated! 
During  the  remainder  of  her  long  hfe,  for  she  hved  till  she  was 
84    she  went  about  in  society,  travelled  abroad  and  associated 
with  many  notable  people.     Lady  Louisa  Stuart,  in  a  memoir 
of  the  family,  describes  her  thus  :    "  She  had  the  reputation  of 
cleverness  when  young  and  in  spite  of  all  her  absurdity  could 
not  be  called  a  silly  woman  :    but  she  was  so  eminently  wrong 
'  headed,  her  understanding  lay  smothered  under  so  much  pride 
selt  conceit,  prejudice,  obstinacy  and  violence  of  temper,  that  you 
knew  not  where  to  look  for  it,  and  seldom  indeed  did  you  catch 
such  a  distinct  view  of  it  as  certified  its  existence  " 

Horace  Walpole,  who  dedicated  the  Castle  of  Otmnto  to  her 
referred  to  her  as  "  violent,  absurd  and  mad."  From  such  an 
eccentric  character  as  this  one  might  expect  something  pecu- 
harly  entertammg,  but  the  journal,  though  often  very  silly  is 
generally  very  dull.  It  contains  health  notes,  a  few  domestic 
details,  references  to  the  people  she  meets,  her  movements  and 
travels,  her  gams  and  losses  at  cards,  and  an  immense  quantity 
of  gossip,  especially  about  the  Royal  Family  for  whose  favour 

l^,.  '^fu'^u  ™  ^^^^^'  '''^^"^-  ^"  f^^t,  Horace  Walpole 
said  :  If  all  the  sovereigns  of  Europe  combined  to  shght  her  she 
still  would  put  her  trust  in  the  next  generation  of  Princes." 

■2)t  ^7\^^;j'°^^"al.  private  and  had  no  intention  of  publish- 
ing  it.     In  1767  she  writes  ; 

^^^^'''^f  T^^®''?/,''^"^®  ^  ^^  "^®  ^'^d  found  me  writing  my  journal      She 

ut  a^  n  ulhl'i?  '"h"^^  ''■     ""^  "°"'^  ^^  --*-*  iith^a  sl^le  page! 
&ut  as  much  as  I  love  her  I  cou'd  not  consent.     I  felt  ashamed  thou'  I  told 


234  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

her  some  years  hence  I  thought  it  might  be  an  amusement  at  least  it  would 
have  one  thing  to  recommend  it-that  everything  that  was  found  m  it  might 
be  depended  upon  for  truth. 

How  far  it  was  true  that  the  Duke  of  York  wanted  to  marry 
her  is  not  known.  She  anyhow  cherished  the  romance.  After 
his  death  there  are  entries  beginning : 

I  drempt  of  the  Duke. 

I  drempt  again  last  night  of  the  Duke. 

I  drempt  a  great  deal  about  Colonel  Bradenel  relating  to  the  advice  he  had 
given  the  poor  Duke  not  to  marry  me. 

When  she  quarrels  with  Walpole,  she  writes': 

I  have  not  the  same  pleasure  in  meatting  him  as  I  used  to  have  since  I 
know  him  to  be  so  false  to  me.     Thank  God  I  could  not  be  so  to  anybody  ! 

She  does  not  deal  exclusively  with  the  great  world,  and  al- 
though there  are  no  reflections,  no  thoughts,  opmions,  or  medita- 
tions there  are  several  entries  of  a  more  domestic  character,  such 


as 


I  had  a  bad  pain  in  my  head  when  I  got  up,  but  was  in  hopes  going  to  my 
house  in  the  country  would  take  it  off,  but  I  had  so  many  vexations  when  I 
Lr  there  'twas  no  wonder  it  grew  worse.  My  gardener  had  run  away  and 
a  Butcher  at  Kensington  had  drove  away  five  and  twenty  of  my  sheep. 

The  ioumal  is  only  of  family  interest.  The  part  from  1766  to 
1774  was  privately  printed  in  1889  in  four  large  volumes  in  order 
to  preserve  it ;  only  the  headings  of  the  journal  of  the  last  seven- 
teen years  are  given. 


JAMES  HARRIS,  EARL  OF  MALMESBURY    j 

THE  diary  extracts  given  in  the  four- volume  biography 
of  Lord  Malmesbury  amount  to  nothing  more  than  hnks 
between  the  long  despatches  and  letters  which  tell  the 
story  of  his  distinguished  career.  Nevertheless,  he  kept  a  pretty 
regular  diary  from  1767,  when  he  was  22,  up  to  1809.  He  was 
entrusted  with  many  important  diplomatic  missions,  notably 
in  Berlin  and  Paris.  The  diary  is  a  typical  diplomatic  diary, 
filled  with  visits,  travel,  functions,  dinners,  poUtical  and  diplo- 
matic conversations,  etc.,  entirely  objective,  without  a  word  about 


JAMES  HARRIS,   EARL  OF  MALMESBURY        235 

himself  or  his  family.  There  are  anecdotes  of  Frederick  the 
Great  and  his  flutes  and  of  many  other  royal  personages  and 
statesmen.  Anyone  making  a  close  study  of  the  foreign  policy 
of  the  period  might  find  some  interesting  sidelights  in  his 
memoranda,  but  as  a  human  document  the  diary  is  quite  colour- 
less. 

Among  the  dehcate  duties  entrusted  to  Lord  Malmesbury  was 
that  of  marrying  Caroline  of  Brunswick  by  proxy  for  the  Prince  of 
Wales  (afterwards  George  IV).  He  sees  it  through  and  gives  the 
whole  scene  at  the  Grand  Ducal  Court.  Even  at  the  time  he  has 
some  misgivings  about  the  Princess's  manners  and  disposition 
but  he  brmgs  her  to  London,  and  the  account  of  her  husband's 
first  meeting  with  her  is  worth  quoting  : 

I  according  to  the  established  etiquette  introduced  the  Princess  Caroline 
to  him.  She  very  properly  in  consequence  of  my  saying  to  her  it  was  the 
right  mode  of  proceeding,  attempted  to  kneel  to  him.  He  raised  her  (grace- 
fully enough)  and  embraced  her.  said  barely  one  word,  turned  round,  retired 
to  a  distant  part  of  the  apartment  and  calling  to  me  said  :  "  Harris.  I  am  not 
well ;  pray  get  me  a  glass  of  brandy."  I  said  "  Sir,  had  you  not  better  have 
a  glass  of  water  ?  "—upon  which  he,  much  out  of  humour,  said  with  an  oath 

JS/o  :    1  will  go  directly  to  the  Queen  "  and  away  he  went. 

From  the  first  the  whole  thing  was  a  miserable  failure,  and 
the  Pnncess's  behaviour,  which  was  "  flippant,  rattling,  affecting 
raillery  and  wit  and  throwing  out  coarse  vulgar  hints,"  did  not 
improve  matters.  So  that  Lord  Malmesbury  finally  says  about 
the  transaction,  "  I  lament  very  much  having  taken  any  share 
purely  passive  as  it  was."  * 

His  important  diplomatic  work  in  Madrid,  The  Hague,  Berlin, 
and  more  especially  in  France,  where  he  was  engaged  in  the 
fruitless  negotiations  in  Paris  and  Lille  during  1796  and  1797, 
are  better  related  by  his  despatches  than  by  his  diary 

From  1809  until  the  close  of  his  life  in  1820,  however.  Lord 
Malmesbury  gave  up  his  ordinary  diary  and  kept  a  "  Self  con- 
trolling Journal."  This  was  of  a  very  different  character  and  has 
not  been  published.  It  appears  to  have  been  much  more  in  the 
style  of  an  eighteenth- century  divine.  The  final  entry,  written 
a  fortmght  before  his  death  in  1820,  can  be  quoted  : 

Thou  hast  completed  thy  seventy  fourth  year  having  been  permitted  to  live 
longer  than  any  of  thy  ancestors  as  far  back  as  1606.  Thy  existence  has  been 
without  any  great  misfortune  and  without  any  acute  disease  and  has  been 
one  for  which  thou  ought'st  to  be  extremely  grateful.  Be  so.  in  praise  and 
thanksgiving  towards  the  Supreme  Being  and  by  preparing  thyself  to  employ 
the  remnant  of  it  wisely  and  discreetly.  The  next  step  wiU  probably  be  the 
last.     Strive  not  to  delay  the  period  of  its  arrival  nor  lament  at  its  near 


236  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

approach.  Thou  are  too  exhausted,  both  in  mind  and  body,  to  be  of  service 
to  thy  country,  thy  friends  or  family.  Thou  art  fortmiate  m  leaving  thy 
children  weU  and  happy  ;  be  content  to  join  thy  parent  Earth  calmly  and 
with  becoming  resignation.     Such  is  thy  imperious  duty— Vale. 


THOMAS  GRAY 

THERE  are  two  fragments  of  diary  written  by  the  poet 
Gray.  The  first  is  some  notes  on  his  journey  in  France 
in  1739,  when  he  was  23,  which  are  so  brief  that  there  is 
only  a  bare  mention  of  the  places  he  visits  and  hardly  any  descrip- 
tion except  of  his  ascent  to  the  Grande  Chartreuse.  He  expresses 
no  personal  feelings  whatever,  and  does  not  even  refer  to  his 
travelling  companion,  Horace  Walpole. 

The  second  is  his  Journal  in  the  Lakes,  begun  on  September 
30  1769,  and  concluded  on  December  22  of  the  same  year.  Gray 
was  not  a  diary  waiter,  and  the  Journal  was  only  composed  for 
his  friend  Dr.  Wharton's  amusement.  The  scenery  inspired 
him,  but  when  he  returns  "  to  the  smoky,  ugly,  busy  town  of 
Leeds  I  dropped  all  further  thoughts  of  my  journal."  ! 

Though  it  consists  of  Uttle  more  than  descriptions  of  scenery 
written  practicaUy  daily  as  he  travels  about,  a  reader  can  soon 
detect,  as  he  peruses  the  few  pages,  that  it  is  not  the  usual  banal 
effusion  that  is  met  with  so  often  in  diaries.  It  wants  to  be  read 
all  through  to  get  the  atmosphere ;  quotations  cannot  convey 
it  The  restraint  and  simphcity  of  the  language,  the  absence  of 
exuberant  purple  patches,  can  only  be  appreciated  by  consecutive 
reading.  As,  however,  the  whole  diary  cannot  be  transcribed, 
extracts  must  be  given. 

In  the  evening  walked  alone  down  to  the  Lake  by  the  side  of  Crow  Park 
after  sunset  and  saw  the  solemn  colouring  of  night  draw  on.  the  last  gleam  of 
sunshine  fading  away  on  the  hill  tops,  the  deep  serene  of  the  waters  and  the. 
long  shadows  oi  the  mountains  thrown  across  them  tiU  they  nearly  touched 
the  hithermost  shore.  At  distance  heard  the  murmur  of  many  waterfaUa 
not  audible  in  the  daytime.  Wished  for  the  moon  but  she  was  dark  to  vie  ami 
silent  hidden  in  her  vacant  interlunar  cave. 

From  the  shore  a  low  promontory  pushes  itself  far  into  the  water  and  on  it 
stands  a  white  viUage  with  the  parish  church  rising  in  the  ^^lf}\  h^^g"^| 
•  enclosures,  cornfields  and  meadows  green  as  an  emerald,  with  their  trees  and 
hedges  and  cattle  fiU  up  the  whole  space  from  the  edge  of  the  water  Just 
opposite  to  you  is  a  large  farm  house  at  the  bottom  of  a  steep  smooth  lawn 
embosomed  in  old  woods  which  climb  half  way  up  the  mountain  side  and 
discover  above  them  a  broken  Une  of  crags  that  crown  the  scene.     Not  a 


STROTHER  23t 

single  red  tile,  no  flaming  gentleman's  house  or  garden  walls  break  in  upon 
the  repose  of  this  little  xmsuspected  paradise  but  all  is  peace,  rusticity  and 
happy  poverty  in  its  neatest  most  becoming  attire. 

On  the  cliSs  above  hung  a  few  goats  ;  one  of  them  danced  and  scratched 
an  ear  with  its  hind  foot  in  a  place  where  I  could  not  have  stood  still  for  all 
beneath  the  moon. 

He  mentions  his  food  : 

For  me  I  went  no  further  than  the  farmer's  at  Grange  ;  his  mother  and  he 
brought  us  butter  that  Siserah  would  have  jtxmped  at  though  not  in  a  lordly 
dish,  bowls  of  milk,  thin  oaten  cakes  and  ale  ;  and  we  carried  a  cold  tongue 
thither  with  us. 

And  he  gives  a  "  receipt  to  dress  Perch,"  which  he  declares 
is  excellent.  He  relates  romantic  stories  he  hears,  he  mentions 
a  few  people  in  connection  with  the  houses  he  sees,  but  he  indulges 
in  no  meditations  and  expresses  no  opinions. 

The  diary  is  contained  in  the  first  volume  of  the  works  of  Thomas 
Gray,  edited  by  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse. 


K 


STROTHER 

LTHOUGH   only  the   record  of  a   single   year,  devoid  of 
historical    interest  and  of  little   note  from  a   local  and 

_    archseological   point  of   view,  the  diary  of  Strother,  the 

draper's  assistant,  deserves  special  notice  as  a  production  of 
psychological  value  owing  to  the  light  it  throws  on  the  personality 
of  its  obscure  young  author,  whose  Christian  name  even  we  do 
not  know. 

We  gather  that  he  came  to  Hull  from  York  at  the  age  of  15, 
and  remained  in  the  shop  for  six  years.  He  begins  his  diary  during 
the  last  of  these  years  on  August  8,  1784,  when  he  was  21.  The 
first  entry  runs  thus  : 

I  have  often  thought  of  keeping  a  journal  of  all  my  thoughts  and  proceedings 
and  by  referring  to  it  may  sometimes  aid  my  memory  and  please  myself 
with  reading  in  some  future  period  past  occurrences. 

And  he  says  later :  "  These  writings  are  for  my  own  private 
perusal." 

He  then  proceeds  with  careful  daily  entries  in  which,  in  addition 
to  notes  on  the  weather,  burials,  intercourse  with  friends,  records 
of  prices,  reports  of  sermons  and  details  with  regard  to  his  health, 


238  ENGLISH  DIAHIES 

he  indulges  in  philosophic  reflections,  confesses  his  aspirations 
and  describes  his  depressions.  The  writing  throughout  is  neat 
and  clear,  the  language  rather  stilted,  and  while  he  takes  himself 
very  seriously,  he  has  a  sense  of  humour  and  gives  very  sound 
moral  judgments. 

With  a  good  knowledge  of  French,  with  a  smattering  of  Hebrew, 
and  being  able  to  write  shorthand,  he  naturally  aspires  to  a 
better  position.  But  his  various  attempts  to  get  commercial 
employment  abroad  do  not  succeed,  anyhow  during  the  period 
in  which  he  writes. 

He  and  his  friends  form  a  society  "  with  a  design  to  improve 
ourselves  in  the  art  of  speaking  and  reasoning  for  the  better 
enabling  us  to  hold  a  conversation  with  propriety,"  and  he 
expresses  great  contempt  for  people  "  who  read  books  and  cannot 
tell  about  what  they  have  read." 

One  of  the  debates  is  on  the  following  subject : 

Whether  may  a  man  derive  m;ore  solid  instruction  from  Prosperity  or 
Adversity  .  .  .  which  I  shall  consider  more  fully  at  Leisure  and  have  for  my 
present  amusement  translated  the  31st  Fable  from  la  Fontaine  (the  Lion  and 
the  Gnat). 

He  is  very  fond  of  argument,  which  he  carries  on  with  his  friends 
on  every  conceivable  subject : 

I  told  Burton  in  an  argument  that  the  head  is  clearer  in  the  morning  than 
at  night  because  the  fumes  of  provisions  rise  from  the  Belly  and  as  a  support 
for  what  I  said  a  vapour  arises  from  Meat  when  stewed  on  the  fire,  and  if  so 
why  may  not  the  same  be  in  the  Belly  which  is  both  warm  and  moist. 

He  fears,  however,  after  a  while  that  the  Debating  Society 
"  teaches  us  more  to  prate  than  to  speak,"  and  he  notices  that 
one  member  "  loves  oysters,  buttered  buns,  and  all  better  than 
any  of  the  Company."  The  Society,  which  is  known  as  "  The 
Sentimental  Society,"  finally  breaks  up  owing  to  the  high  cost  of 
their  room  and  the  resignation  of  other  members. 

He  gives  amusing  accounts  of  some  of  his  friends  : 

Mr.  EUerington  a  man  of  high  imagination  ...  he  is  one  of  those  characters 
who  are  fond  of  holding  chit  chat  and  love  to  hear  tongues  wag  and  never  is 
more  happy  and  contented  than  when  he  can  hold  gossip  over  a  pot  of  ale ; 
but  I  do  not  think  he  is  a  drunkard  although  his  nose  is  red  and  of  a  tolerable 
size  so  that  when  he  lifts  a  giU  pot  to  his  mouth  nosy  goes  half  way  in. 

His  ambition  is  to  get  some  position  abroad,  and  he  copies  out 
the  letters,  some  in  French,  which  he  writes  on  the  subject.  He 
finds  himself,  he  says,  at  the  age  of  21, 


STROTHER  23d 

with  no  other  prospect  than  that  of  struggling  thro'  the  world  with  few 
advantages.  So  despair  is  wrong.  I'U  therefore  make  the  best  of  a  bad 
market  and  endeavour  in  3  or  4  years'  time  to  settle  myself  in  as  advantageous 
a  manner  as  possible  and  hazard  my  little  all  in  foreign  commerce. 

He  enlists  his  mother's  assistance,  and  in  one  of  his  letters  to 
her  he  writes  : 

I  beg  you  will  write  your  letter  to  them  plainer  and  spell  better  than  you  do 
to  me  that  you  may  give  y™  no  occasion  to  laugh  and  satirize  on  your  style 
of  writing. 

When  she  does  not  reply  he  fears  she  is  offended  : 

If  she  is  she  will  show  a  spirit  more  like  rich  pye  crust  that  cannot  bear 
touclung. 

But  his  endeavours  to  get  a  better  situation  are  in  vain,  and 
when  he  goes  to  York  in  July  it  is  either  to  another  shop  or  a  shop 
of  his  own. 

His  moral  tone  is  always  high.  He  expresses  at  some  length 
and  particularly  well  his  indignation  with  a  friend  whose  advice 
on  moral  questions  is  contrary  to  his  practices.  On  the  subject 
of  gaming  he  says  : 

It  ought  to  hurt  the  pride  of  a  gentleman  to  make  an  equal  of  one  that  is 
BO  much  his  inferior  both  in  morals  and  everything  else.  If  he  loves  cards  or 
Dice  rather  let  him  amuse  himself  with  his  known  equals  ;  but  a  true  bred 
gentleman  heartily  despises  such  amusements  which  are  only  fit  for  grovelling 
spirits. 

Here  is  another  of  his  aphorisms  : 

There  is  as  much  virtue  in  Private  Life  as  in  Public ;  the  first  is  rather  in 
obsciu-ity  amongst  men,  therefore  we  seldom  hear  of  it.  The  latter  seldom 
wants  a  Trimapeter  to  sound  forth  its  praise. 

Health  details  occur  from  time  to  time  : 

The  little  liquor  that  I  drank  got  into  my  head  and  quite  metamorphosed 
me  to  be  dull  and  strangely  stupid. 

Eating  too  much  bread  and  quenching  his  thirst  with  a  lot  of 
water  produces  disturbing  symptoms  : 

I  will  eat  less  of  my  favourite  bread  and  drink  something  more  substantial 
than  flip  flap  water. 

And  there  is  a  long  and  elaborate  account  of  the  removal  of 
a  com  on  his  left  little  toe,  which  he  does  by  means  of  "  Lapis 


/ 


^40  ENGLISH  DIARIES  | 

Infemalis,"  with  the  result  that  he  burns  his  finger  and  is  prevented 
from  writing  for  some  weeks.     However,  he  keeps  memoranda 
and  the  very  conscientious  diary  record  does  not  suffer. 
His  depressions  are  frequent. 

In  looking  over  my  Journal— I  find  in  several  places  only  observations  of 
the  weather  to  fill  up  the  day  which  is  a  sad,  but  too  true  sign  of  want  of 
occurrences  to  fill  the  page  and  scenes  as  if  I  had  shut  myself  from  the  world 
or  had  not  thought  sufficient  to  make  up  the  deficiency  whereas  I  have  been 
confined  behind  the  counter  and  prevented  from  committing  my  sentiments 

to  paper.  .  j    u    u 

I  have  been  here  6  years  having  visited  my  mother  3  tmies  and  she  nas 
visited  me  once.  I  have  kept  myself  from  many  unlucky  mischances  which 
several  of  my  comrades  have  run  into. 

Then  follows  a  great  deal  of  philosophising,  naive  perhaps  but 
not  in  the  least  self-righteous.  He  tells  some  amusing  anecdotes, 
describes  at  length  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  his  favourite  dance, 
draws  pictures  of  some  coins  he  finds,  and  after  saying,  "I  am : 
fond  of  genealogies  and  particularly  of  virtuous  men,"  he  proceeds 
to  fill  several  pages  with  a  very  careful  account  of  his  o^vn  family. 

In  York  he  makes  a  new  resolution  : 

I  have  often  thought  of  keeping  a  Journal  for  a  week  of  every  thought,  word 
and  deed  that  might  occur  to  memory  for  as  we  miist  give  an  account  of  our 
actions  and  how  every  hom-  is  spent  so  this  week's  Journal  may  inform  me  in 
what  manner  I  generally  spend  my  time.  I  never  fixt  any  resolution  of  the 
kind  before.  , 

He  then  begins  very  conscientiously  to  attempt  the  impossible. 
From  July  5  to  July  12  he  tries  to  put  down  everything— how  ^ 
every  hour  of  the  day  is  spent,  what  he  eats  and  to  whom  he. 
talks.     His   handwriting  becomes   more   untidy   and  the   shorti 
sentences  more  scrappy.     We  can  only  quote  a  part : 

Sold  very  little  this  morning— only  taken  6/-  .  .  .—came  in  with  haughty* 
spirit  and  pedantic  manners.  .  .  .  Hum'd  a  tune  or  two  all  the  while  my  corn 
pain'd  me  greatly  .  .  .  read  the  Spectator  .  .  .  [measuring  cloth].  For  the 
future  I  shall  measure  by  the  selvage  tho'  not  agreeable  to  the  strictest  rules 
of  honesty.  .  .  .  Walked  out  of  Bootham  bar  and  my  thoughts  tum'd  upon' 
myself  that  I  have  not  an  address  sufficiently  pohte  for  a  good  shopkeeper  and 
I  know  but  little  how  to  proceed  in  improving  according  to  the  common  rul^. 
so  that  I  must  learn  by  observing  other  Tradesmen  and  endeavouring  top 
imitate  them  or  strike  out  some  other  method  of  my  own : 

After  a  description  of  a  service  in  the  Cathedral  at  which  the 
Archbishop  and  Judges  were  present,  and  of  an  accident  and| 
adventure  with  a  riotous  companion,  there  are  a  few  Unes  on  the 
last  day,  July  12,  and  then  comes  the  end  of  the  note-book  (^ 

'i 


THE  LADIES  OF  LLANGOLLEN  241 

260  pages  and  the  end  of  the  diary  with  the  following  pathetic 
statement  on  the  last  page  : 

And  now  I  have  filled  this  book  but  perhaps  shall  not  fiU  another.  I  have 
learnt  by  keeping  this  Journal  that  I  have  been  discontent  more  than  was 
profitable  and  that  it  is  not  proper  for  a  Tradesman  to  keep  a  Journal  without 
he  has  enough  of  Time  and  plentifull  fortvme. 

I  began  Sunday  8  of  Aug.  1784  and  now  conclude  Sunday  17  July  1785  at 
7  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

We  are  left  with  the  hope  that  Strother  eventually  found  a 
position  better  suited  to  his  capacities  and  with  a  regret  that 
his  eminently  successful  attempt  at  diary  writing  should  have 
been  curtailed  by  his  modesty. 

The  original  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  In  1912  the  Rev. 
Caesar  Caine  produced  a  printed  edition  of  it. 


THE  LADIES   OF  LLANGOLLEN 

THE  romantic  story  of  the  Ladies  of  Llangollen  is  so  unique, 
and  one  may  almost  say  fantastic,  that  it  might  easily 
be  supposed  that  tradition,  local  gossip  and  hearsay 
had  woven  the  highly-coloured  strands  of  fiction  over  the  bare 
threads  of  whatever  there  may  have  been  of  fact.  There  are, 
however,  in  existence  diaries  kept  by  the  Ladies  themselves 
which  fully  testify  to  the  authenticity  of  the  accounts  given  of 
them. 

We  must  resist  the  temptation  of  entering  at  length  into  the 
history  of  the  t\/o  ladies  who  lived  together  for  over  fifty  years 
in  Plas  Newydd,  a  curious  Gothic  cottage  in  the  Valley  of  Llan- 
gollen. But  in  order  to  explain  and  give  a  frame  to  the  diary 
extracts  which  will  be  quoted  a  brief  outhne  of  their  story  must 
be  related. 

Lady  Eleanor  Butler,  a  sister  of  the  17th  Earl  of  Ormonde, 
was  a  high-spirited  and  independent  young  woman  who  conceived 
a  loathing  for  the  idea  of  marriage.  Exasperated  by  the  matri- 
monial plans  her  relations  tried  to  make  for  her  and  impatient 
with  the  restrictions  imposed  on  her  in  her  aunt's  house  in  Ireland, 
she  decided  to  "  elope  "  with  her  friend  Sarah  Ponsonby,  a  daugh- 
ter of  Chambre  Brabazon  Ponsonby  and  cousin  of  the  Earl  of 
Bessborough.  Her  first  attempt,  which  was  unsuccessful,  was 
some  time  in  the  early  seventeen-seventies,  when  she  was  33, 
16 


242  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

and  Sarah  Ponsonby  about  17.  The  second  attempt,  whether 
it  was  again  a  flight  or  whether  she  waited  till  her  friend  was  of 
age  anyhow  ended  in  the  two  friends  setthng  as  tenants  of  Plas 
Ne^dd  without  any  further  protest  from  their  relations.  There 
they  remained  together  for  over  fifty  years,  never  sleepmg  away 
from  home  for  a  single  night. 

There  they  passed  their  time,  carrying  on  an  extensive  corre- 
spondence, reading,  drawing,  gardening  and  making  Httle  excur- 
sions in  the  neighbourhood.  There,  in  spite  of  their  love  of 
retirement,  they  received  many  guests,  among  whom  may  be 
named  Miss  Seward,  Madame  de  Genhs,  the  Duke  of  Welhngton, 
Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald,  the  Duke  of  York,  Prince  Puckler 
Muskau,  de  Quincey,  Walter  Scott,  Wordsworth  and  Charles 
Mathews,  the  actor.  Some  special  fascination  m  the  ladies 
must  have  attracted  such  visitors.  They  were  cultivated  and 
well  read,  they  spoke  French  with  ease,  and  their  charm  and 
originality  is  dwelt  upon  in  several  of  the  accounts  of  them  which 
have  been  handed  down  by  those  whom  they  entertained.  Their 
costume  and  appearance  was  very  singular.  With  short  powdered 
hair  tall  hats,  waistcoats,  cravats,  and  riding  habits  they  looked 
whek  seated  more  Uke  two  old  gentlemen.  Lady  Eleanor  wore 
orders  and  decorations  which  had  been  presented  to  her  by  the 
Bourbon  family.  There  they  sat  surrounded  by  strange  curios  in 
their  weU-filled  hbrary,  into  which  the  sun  pierced  through  stamed- 
glass  windows  and  which  was  hghted  at  night  by  a  prismatic 
lantern  of  coloured  glass. 

But  the  most  remarkable  thing  about  these  so-called  recluses 
was  their  devotion  to  one  another,  which  not  only  stood  the  test 
of  time,  but  was  kept  up  all  through  at  an  almost  ecstatic  pitchy 
as  we  shaU  see  by  the  diary  extracts.  Lady  Eleanor  died  m 
1829,  when  she  was  nearly  90 ;  Miss  Ponsonby  died  three  year^ 

As  to  diaries,  only  fragments  remain,  but  they  are  of  so  regular 
and  minute  a  character  that  we  may  weU  suppose  that  one  of 
the  two  ladies  may  have  kept  one  throughout  the  whole  period. 
It  would  be  in  keeping  with  their  methodical  and  punctual  habits. 

Lady  Eleanor's  diary, ^  from  which  our  quotations  come,  covers 
three  months  from  September  15  to  December  14,  1785 ;  that  is 
to  say,  after  they  had  been  resident  in  LlangoUen  for  about  ten 
years.  It  is  contained  in  a  Uttle  book  measuring  about  4  inched 
square,  bound  by  herself  in  buff  coloured  paper.    Every  day  is 

1  These  quotations  are  published  for  the  first  time  by  kind  permission  of  the 
Marquis  of  Ormonde,  to  whom  the  diary  belongs. 


THE   LADIES   OF   LLANGOLLEN  243 

accounted  for.  The  handwriting  is  a  marvel  of  neatness,  but 
can  only  be  read  easily  by  the  aid  of  a  magnifying  glass.  The 
lines  and  margins  are  as  straight  as  those  of  a  printed  book  and 
there  is  not  a  single  erasure  throughout. 

The  occupations  of  almost  every  hour  are  set  down.  Every 
day  begins  with  the  hour  of  rising  and  a  weather  report.  Scenery 
is  described  in  detail  and  often  with  enthusiasm.  The  gardener's 
doings,  the  visits  of  guests,  books  read,  and  all  the  httle  trivial 
mcidents  of  their  daily  hfe  are  carefuUy  entered.  Sarah  Ponsonby 
is  referred  to  as  "my  SaUy,"  "my  beloved,"  "the  darling  of 
my  heart,"  "  the  joy  of  my  hfe."  At  the  end  of  each  entry  the 
day  is  summed  up  in  a  phrase  of  which  the  following  are  examples  : 

a  silent  happy  day. 

an  undisturbed  peaceful  day. 

a  day  of  sentiment  and  delight. 

[after  visitors]  a  tumultuous  day. 

a  day  of  delight  and  uninterrupted  retirement. 

sweet  converse  with  the  delight  of  my  heart. 

We  will  first  give  two  full  specimen  entries  : 

Sep.  18.  Rose  at  seven,  soft  morning  inclined  to  rain,  went  the  rounds 
after  Breakfast.  Our  shoes  from  Chirk,  vile,  scolded  Thomas  for  growing 
fat.  from  ten  till  one  writing  and  reading  (La  Rivalite)  to  my  beloved.  She 
drawing,  spent  half  an  hour  in  the  shrubery.  mild  grey  day.  from  half 
past  one  till  three  reading,  from  four  tiU  seven  read  to  my  Sally  finished  la 
Rivahte  began  Warton  on  Milton,  in  the  Shrubery  tiU  ei<^ht.  Powell 
returned  from  Wrexham,  no  letters.  eight  tiU  nine  read  I'Esprit  dea 
oroisades.     papered  our  Hair,     an  uninterrupted  delightful  day. 

Dec.  12.     Rose  at  nine,     all  the  mountains  covered  with  snow,     a  loaded 

I  gloomy  sky.     the  most  piercing  Bitter  cold  sharp  Wind.     Letter  by  the 
Oswestry  Post  from  the  Burnetts,     from  Mr.  Chambre  the  contents  of  which 
will  be  ever  gratefully  remembered  by  us.     from  my  friend  Boissiere  enclosing 
a  pattern  of  paper  a  Vignette  avec  envelope  done  by  a  Protegee  of  His.     some 
i  poor  tawdry  french  creature  who  (like  a  cameleon)  lives  upon  air  in  some 
garret  m  London,     mem.  to  write  to  Mrs.  Simpson  and  recommend  her  to 
her  protection  and  oblige  my  friend  Boissiere,     wrote  to  the  Burnetts,     from 
eleven  tiU  two  each  writing,     at  two  went  the  Home  circuit,     most  penetrat- 
ing cold  and  the  sharpest  wind,     gloomy  sky.     Sent  Powell  to  Tower,     the 
poor  Whalleys  very  ill.     from  half  past  two  till  Three  read  Rousseau  to  my 
beloved.     She  at  her  Plan.     After  diimer  went  round  the  gardens  cold  beyond 
™f Sanation,     the  Library  is  exquisitely  warm  and  comfortable.     From  five 
tiU  eight  read  (Rousseau  finished  the  14th  tome)  to  my  beloved.     She  drawing 
her  plan,     from  eight  till  ten  I  read  Madame  S6vign4>.     A  day  of  the  most 
perfect  and  sweet  retirement. 


244  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

During  this  period  of  three  months  they  read  fourteen  volumes 
of  Rousseau,  who  is  referred  to  as  "  beloved,"  while  Voltaire  is 
noted  as  "that  detested  Voltaire."  A  subsequent  diary  shows 
the  enormous  amount  of  literature  they  consumed,  history, 
memoirs  and  classics  in  French,  Itahan  and  English.  Miss 
Ponsonby's  drawing  consisted  often  of  maps  of  Wales  or  of  the 
world  or  sometimes  plans.     Lady  Eleanor  says  : 

My  beloved  finished  her  map  (of  the  world)  with  a  neatness  and  accuracy 
peculiar  to  herself.     The  writing  and  ornament  particularly  beautiful. 

i 

Lady  Eleanor  superintended  the  gardening  operations;  she 
goes  the  round  every  morning  and  notes  what  Powell  the  gardener 
is  about,  whether  he  is  mowing,  raking,  planting  or  "  scuffling 
in  the  shrubery,"  and  sometimes  scolds  him.  The  entry  "  Mar- 
garet extremely  indelicate  "  might  at  first  be  taken  to  refer  to  a 
domestic  servant,  but  a  later  entry  shows  who  Margaret  was. 
There  were  guests,  and  "  she  came  and  showed  herself  and  was 
milked  before  them." 

They  brewed  their  own  beer.     This  year  she  notes  : 

Brewed  again.  aU  our  Beer  proving  sour  owing  to  the  dishonesty  and 
negUgence  of  the  vestal  whom  for  her  malpractices  we  discarded  last  August. 

Guests  dropped  in  frequently,  specially  the  Whalley  family,  who 
lived  in  the  neighbourhood. 

Mr.  WhaUey  came  staid  till  two.  melancholy,  languid  and  interesting- 
gave  him  a  melon  and  a  pencil. 

But  visits  from  the  outside  were  not  always  appreciated.     The  I 
Whalleys  called  one  day  when  the  ladies  were  occupied  with  a 
friend  drawing  up  their  wills,  and  Lady  Eleanor  writes  : 

Wished  them  at  the  deuce  for  interrupting  us. 

We  also  find : 

Colonel  Mydelton  smoked  and  we  ran  ofi  sick  to  death. 
John  Jones  stayed  till  three,     provincial  poUtics  how  I  hate  them. 

Nothing  they  disliked  more  than  a  pretentious  or  patronising^ 
air  on  the  part  of  their  visitors.  General  Yorke,  who  succeeded^ 
them  at  Plas  Newydd,  relates  how  on  one  occasion  Lady  Eleanor^ 
was  describing  a  visit  of  this  sort,  but  as  her  memory  was  failing- 
at  the  time  she  appealed  to  her  companion,  ''  Did  we  like  him,. 


THE  LADIES  OF  LLANGOLLEN  245 

Sarah  Ponsonby  ?  "  "  We  hated  him,  Eleanor,"  was  the  reply ; 
and  she  continued  her  tale  by  repeating  "'  We  hated  him.''^ 

Curious  as  their  costume  was,  we  see  by  the  following  entry 
that  they  were  very  particular  : 

The  habits  we  have  so  long  expected  arrived  by  the  stage  coach — that 
detestable  Donnes — instead  of  the  dark  violet  colour  we  so  expressly  ordered 
he  sent  a  vulgar  ordinary  snuff  colour  like  a  Farmer's  coat  and  in  place  of  the 
plain  simple  Buttons  which  we  chose  has  sent  a  paltry  dullish  Taudry  three 
coloured  thing  hke  a  Fairing.  Just  looked  at  them,  observed  with  fury  the 
total  mistake  of  our  order,  packed  them  up  and  returned  them  to  him  by  the 
same  coach  in  which  they  came. 

In  illness  the  mutual  devotion  of  the  two  ladies  becomes  very 
apparent. 

I  awoke  with  a  violent  headache,  kept  my  bed  all  day.  How  can  I 
acknowledge  the  kindness  and  tenderness  of  my  Beloved  Sally  who  never  for 
a  moment  left  me  but  sat  reading  and  drawing  till  ten  o'clock  at  night. 

My  Sally  my  tender,  my  sweet  love  lay  beside  me  holding  and  supporting 
my  head  till  one  o'clock.  When  I  by  much  entreaty  prevailed  with  her  to 
rise  and  get  her  breakfast. 

Their  financial  circumstances  remained  rather  a  mystery. 
They  talked  over  their  "  poverty  "  and  occasionally  "  presents  " 
helped  them.  There  was  evidently  one  from  Mr.  Chambre  in  the 
entry  of  December  12  above  quoted.  Lady  Eleanor  talks  over 
their  affairs  with  the  Talbots. 

Mr.  Talbot  has  a  perfect  recollection  of  the  provision  wliich  was  made  for 
me  in  my  brother's  marriage  settlement.  They  agree  in  thinking  I  have  been 
barbarously  cheated.  I  also  acquainted  them  with  my  having  signed,  sealed 
and  delivered  my  last  Will  and  Testament.  That  I  might  secure  all  I  am 
possessed  of  or  entitled  to  to  the  Beloved  of  my  Heart.  They  wiU  see  justice 
done  her  when  I  am  no  more. 

In  the  last  entry,  December  14,  she  notes  :  "  looking  over  correct- 
ing and  binding  this  Journal." 

One  quotation  alone  from  Miss  Ponsonby's  diary  in  the  year 
1788  is  available.^  It  is  in  precisely  the  same  style,  Lady  Eleanor 
is  referred  to  as  "  my  beloved,"  and  the  entry  ends,  "  a  day  of 
sweet  and  silent  retirement."  But  this  diary  and  the  others,  if 
they  existed,  cannot  be  traced.  Miss  Ponsonby  kept  the  accounts, 
and  a  few  quotations  from  her  account  book  ^  may  be  given  as  an 
instance  of  how  much  may  be  learned  from  a  recital  of  items  of 
expenditure.  The  accounts  are  filled  with  small  generosities. 
1  Quoted  in  A  Swan  and  Her  Friends,  by  E.  V.  Lucas. 


246  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

£      s    d. 

A  travelling  boy  for  the  kindness  with  which  he  gave  us  some  pinks.  1 

Lodowick's  unfortunate  daughter  1 

Poor  woman  4d.     Irish  woman  Is  6d.  1.   10. 

John  Rogers,  for  bad  work  2.     6. 

Tinker  for  spoiUng  tea  kettle  1.     3. 

Ale  from  "  Hand  "  not  fit  to  be  drunk  6. 

Powdered  Hair  Tax  3.     3.     0. 

Four  little  boys  at  chimney  fire  6. 

Halston  gardener  with  horrid  melon  2.     6. 

Mr.  Salmon  for  cleaning  our  teeth  1.     1,     0. 

Muffins  for  kitchen  quality  6. 

Old,  dirty,  ungrateful  Lloyd  6. 

Carline's  man  with  cart  full  of  disappointment  2,     6. 

Brandy  for  our  landlord's  cough  3. 

Among  other  extracts  are  "  Eels  and  trout  for  Mrs.  Piozzi  " 
and  "  Pair  of  Turkies,  expectation  of  Miss  Seward." 

It  is  unfortunate  that  we  have  no  diary  comment  on  some  of 
the  eminent  guests  who  visited  Llangollen  valley. 


ELIZABETH,   LADY  HOLLAND  ^ 

ELIZABETH  VASSALL  was  born  in  1771.  At  the  age  of  15 
she  was  married  to  Sir  Godfrey  Webster,  of  Battle  Abbey. 
She  had  three  children,  but  the  marriage  was  an  unhappy 
one.  She  met  Lord  Holland  in  1794  and  separated  from  her 
husband.  After  obtaining  a  divorce  she  married  Lord  Holland 
in  1797.  The  celebrated  hostess  of  Holland  House  is  described 
thus  by  Greville  when  she  died  in  1845  :  "  Lady  Holland  contrived 
to  assemble  round  her  to  the  last  a  great  society  comprising  almost 
everybody  that  was  conspicuous,  remarkable  and  agreeable.  .  .  . 
She  was  often  capricious,  tyrannical  and  troublesome,  hking 
to  provoke  and  disappoint  and  thwart  her  acquaintances  and  she 
was  often  obliging,  good-natured,  and  considerate  to  the  same 
people.  .  .  .  She  could  not  live  alone  for  a  single  minute ;  she 
never  was  alone  and  even  in  her  moments  of  greatest  grief  it 
was  not  in  soUtude  but  in  society  that  she  sought  her  consola- 
tion." 

From  a  woman  of  so  marked  a  character,  who  had  been  through 
bitter  private  experiences  and  became  the  centre  of  the  most 

1  The  Diary  extracts  are  quoted  from  The  Diary  of  Elizabeth,  Lady  Holland, 
by  kind  permission  of  Messrs.  Longmans,  Green  &  Co. 


ELIZABETH,   LADY  HOLLAND  247 

remarkable  political  salon  ever  known  in  London,  one  might 
expect  a  diary  of  peculiar  interest.  The  published  extracts  from 
her  diary  between  1791  and  1811,  filUng  two  volumes,  are,  however, 
a  great  disappointment.  Neither  the  social,  political,  nor 
the  personal  entries  in  her  diary  are  in  any  way  noteworthy. 
The  personal  notes  are  unnaturally  stilted  and  cold,  and  the 
political  and  social  comments  fall  very  far  behind  Greville  or 
even  some  of  the  minor  social  diarists  of  the  time.  She  thought 
it  worth  while  to  make  a  pretty  full  record  of  her  travels  and 
social  entertainments  and  even  to  reflect  on  personal  experiences. 
She  did  not  lack  literary  talent,  but  she  seems  to  have  been 
entirely  devoid  of  the  spontaneity  and  reckless,  careless  ease 
which  make  some  diaries  entertaining.  Her  gossip  is  not  as 
amusing  even  as  Lady  Charlotte  Bury's,  her  political  notes  are 
never  very  illuminating,  and  what  we  get  of  the  personal  side  is 
colourless  and  conventional.  It  would  almost  seem  as  if  she 
were  writing  for  eventual  publication  when  she  makes  this  sort  of 
entry  on  the  tragedy  of  her  first  marriage. 

1793.  Jan.  27.  This  fatal  day  seven  years  gave  me  in  the  bloom  and 
innocence  of  fifteen  to  the  power  of  a  being  who  has  made  me  execrate  my 
life  since  it  has  belonged  to  him.  Despair  often  prompts  me  to  a  remedy 
within  my  reach.  .  .  .  My  mind  is  worked  up  to  a  state  of  savage  exaltation 
and  impels  me  to  act  with  fm-y  that  proceeds  more  from  passion  and  deep 
despair  than  I  can  in  calmer  moments  justify.  Often  times  in  the  gloom  of 
midnight  I  feel  a  desire  to  curtail  my  grief  and  but  for  an  unaccountable 
shudder  than  creeps  over  me,  ere  this  the  deed  of  rashness  would  be  executed. 

If  she  thought  she  was  near  committing  suicide  when  she  sat 
down  and  wrote  this,  she  was  very  much  mistaken.  We  get 
occasional  ghmpses  of  the  advances  made  to  her  by  various  men, 
but  she  does  not  always  give  the  name.  For  instance,  in  1794 
she  writes  : 

Surprise  and  embarassment  have  completely  overset  me.  Oh  !  what  vile 
animals  men  are  with  headstrong  passions.  Now  !  I  have  heard  from  the 
lips  of  one  who  affects  morality  and  domestic  virtues  maxims  that  would 
revolt  all  but  the  most  depraved.  .  .  .  One  night  coming  from  the  Pergola 
I  was  compelled  to  get  out  of  the  carriage  to  avoid  his  pressing  importunities. 

She  is  annoyed  by  Tierney's  attentions  : 

I  had  a  long  walk  upon  the  terrace  with  Tiemey.  I  was  in  an  eloquent 
veine  and  happily  conveyed  all  I  intended  to  express  without  the  rigorous 
exterior  of  forbidding  prudery.  I  think  I  convinced  him  his  attentions 
offended  and  his  hope  insulted  me,  that  I  was  firmly  attached  at  home,  and 
tho'  I  felt  at  present  no  resentment  towards  him  yet  I  should  if  his  pretensions 
continued. 


248  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

When  she  hears  of  the  suicide  of  her  first  husband,  she  writes  : 

I  could  not  hear  of  his  death  without  emotion  and  was  for  some  time  con- 
siderably agitated.  But  my  God  !  how  was  I  overcome  when  Drew  showed 
me  a  hasty  note  written  to  him  by  Hodges  to  apprise  me  of  the  manner  of  his 
death.  He  shot  himself,  he  added,  in  consequence  of  heavy  losses  at  play. 
With  him  dies  all  resentment  and  great  as  my  injuries  have  been  willingly 
would  I  renotmee  all  that  may  accrue  to  me  from  this  dreadful  event  to  restore 
him  again  to  existence  with  the  certainty  of  his  paying  the  natviral  debt  of 
nature.  Unhappy  man  !  What  must  have  been  the  agony  of  his  mind  to 
rouse  him  to  commit  a  deed  of  such  horror.  Peace  to  his  soul  and  may  he 
find  the  mercy  I  would  bestow. 

In  1797  there  is  an  interval  of  a  year  in  the  Journal,  and  when 
she  resumes  it  she  merely  records  the  fact  of  her  marriage  to 
Lord  Holland.  But  three  years  previously,  when  she  first  meets 
him  in  Italy,  she  makes  some  notes  about  him  : 

Ld  Holland  is  quite  delightful.  He  is  eager  without  rashness,  well  bred 
without  ceremony  .  ,  .  he  is  totally  without  any  party  rancoiir  ;  in  short  he 
is  exactly  what  aU  must  Uke,  esteem  and  admire.  His  spirits  are  sometimes 
too  boisterous  as  may  occasionally  overpower  me,  but  he  is  good  humoured 
enough  to  endure  reproof. 

Ld  Holland's  delightfvd  spirits  cheered  us  so  much  that  we  called  him  sal 
volatile  and  used  to  spare  him  to  one  another  for  half  an  hour  to  enliven  when 
either  [she  and  Lady  Bessborough]  were  melancholy. 

She  prevented  her  daughter  by  her  first  marriage  from  being 
given  into  the  custody  of  Sir  G.  Webster  by  stating  that  she  was 
dead.  Of  this  rather  dramatic  episode,  however,  we  only  find 
brief  references,  such  as  the  following  : 

1799.  June  19.  On  this  day  my  mother  left  me.  During  her  stay  I 
disclosed  an  event  which  has  incessantly  occupied  my  mind  now  3  years. 
I  restored  to  her  father  my  little  daughter  Harriet  who  I  had  concealed  pre- 
tending her  dead. 

When  she  loses  a  son  in  1801  she  breaks  out  into  a  long  and 
elaborate  outpouring  of  grief: 

Alas  !  to  lose  my  pretty  infant  just  begiiming  to  prattle  his  little  innocent 
wishes,  and  imagination  so  busily  aids  my  grief  by  tracing  what  he  might 
have  been.  .  .  .  Ah  !  my  child  perhaps  if  I  had  not  left  you  in  the  summer  but 
stayed  and  watched  with  maternal  care  aU  your  ailments  I  might  have  had 
you  still.  .  .  , 

After  a  page  or  so  of  this  she  goes  on  to  describe  an  "  interesting 
play  "  at  Drury  Lane. 

She  writes  a  good  deal  about  her  travels  in  Italy,  Germany  and 


ii 


THOMAS  GREEN  249 

the  East,  and  she  often  enters  the  books  she  is  reading,  which  are 
of  the  most  various  description,  comprising  classics,  histories, 
chemistry,  travel,  drama,  and  philosophy  in  English,  French  and 
Italian.  Of  the  parties  at  Holland  House  there  is  often  little 
more  than  a  list  of  names,  although  she  sometimes  records  con- 
versations or  mentions  the  particular  people  with  whom  she  spoke. 

There  is  a  long  and  careful  account  of  the  death  of  Charles 
James  Fox,  who  was  Lord  Holland's  uncle. 

Not  only  politicians  assembled  at  Holland  House.  The  literary 
and  the  learned  as  well  as  society  notables  were  among  the  guests. 
There  is  this  entry  in  1807  about  Wordsworth,  "  one  of  the  Lake 
poets,"  when  he  came  to  dine  : 

He  is  much  superior  to  his  writings  and  his  conversation  is  even  beyond  his 
abilities.  I  should  almost  fear  he  is  disposed  to  apply  his  talents  more  towards 
making  himself  a  vigorous  conversationalist  in  the  style  of  our  friend  Sharp 
than  to  improve  his  style  of  composition. 

While  Lady  Holland's  descriptions  of  people  are  often  critical, 
they  somehow  do  not  seem  quite  to  hit  the  mark.  There  is  much 
political  and  parliamentary  gossip,  but  it  is  generally  involved  and 
difficult  to  follow. 

After  all,  there  is  no  particular  reason  why  a  great  hostess 
and  conversationalist  with  notable  social  gifts  should  also  be  able 
to  record  in  writing  the  striking  incidents  of  an  eventful  life. 
Even  the  greatest  have  their  limitations. 

The  diary,  edited  by  Lord  Ilchester,  was  published  in  1909. 


THOMAS  GREEN 

THERE  are  two  sections  of  Green's  diary ;  the  first,  1796 
to  1800,  which  was  published  ;  the  second,  1800  to  1811, 
extracts  from  which  appeared  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine. 
The  diary  differs  from  any  other  diary  examined  in  these  pages. 
It  is  concerned  almost  exclusively  with  records  and  criticisms  of 
books.  The  first  part  when  pubhshed  was  entitled  The  Diary 
of  a  Lover  of  Literature. 

Thomas  Green  was  born  at  Ipswich.  He  entered  the  Inner 
Temple,  but  having  a  competence  of  his  own  he  relinquished  his 
profession  and  settled  down  and  read  and  travelled.  There  is 
in  the  diary,  therefore,  no  professional  ambition,  no  study  for  a 
special  object,  no  endeavour  to  write  up  reminiscences  for  publi- 


250  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

cation,  no  quest  after  celebrities,  and  actually  no  mention  of 

royalty.     He  read  because  he  loved  reading,  and  while  he  mentions 

little  else  than  books  there  is  in  his  entries  an  air  of  quiet  leisure, 

of  peaceful  absorption  in  literature  for  literature's  sake,  and  a 

shrewdness  and  balance  of  judgment  which  shows  the  appreciation 

of  a  real  scholar  in  the  best  sense.     "  Accomphshment,"  "  career, 

"success"  must  have  been  words  unknown  to  lum.     His  was 

not  an  initiating,  but  an  appraising  mind.     We  could  wish  we 

had  a  Httle  more  colour  in  the  setting,  and  could  see  more  of  the 

surroundings  of  this  contemplative  devourer  of  books.     There  is 

one  mention  of  liis   "transplanting  roses   and  watenng."     He 

writes  of  music  a  good  deal  and  occasionaUy  of  pohtics.     But  for 

the  most  part  the  entries,  which  are  made  six  or  eight  times  in 

each  month,  are  devoted  solely  to  the  books  he  is  reading.     They 

are  not  the  hurried  memoranda  of  the  daily  diarist  recordmg 

events,  but  the  carefully  written  reviews  of  a  critic.     The  writing 

gave  him  pleasure.     He  says  in  1803  :  ^ 

This  closes  the  7th  year  of  my  Diary  a  work  from  which  both  in  the  perform- 
ance  and  in  the  retrospect  I  have  derived  stiU  more  delight  than  I  expected. 

He  has  a  very  wide  range  of  reading,  and  it  is  impossible  to 
enumerate  all  the  books  he  digests.  Cicero  he  admires  and  Livy 
"a  sound  and  satisfactory  historian."  Johnson  is  a  favourite, 
Gibbon's  memoir  he  praises,  and  Burke's  "  plenitude  of  thought, 
fertility  of  fancy  and  viguour  of  argumentution."  He  reads  hil  \ 
Bias  for  the  tenth  time  and  re-reads  the  Arahian  Nights,  "  to  whose 
facinating  influence  I  am  quite  ductile."  A  very  long  disqmsi- 
tion  on  Rousseau  begins  : 

Rousseau  is  a  character  who  has  by  turns  transported  me  with  the  most- 
violent  and  opposite  emotions  of  delight  and  disgust,  admiration  and  con. 
tempt,  indignation  and  pity  :  but  my  ultimate  opinion  of  him  drawn  as  it  id 
from  a  pretty  attentive  consideration  of  his  writings  and  actions  wiU  not  . 
think  easily  be  changed. 

Sometimes  his  comments  can  be  very  severe : 

Read  Maurice's  Richmond  Hill.      However  he  may  struggle  to  assume  tb 
poet  I  will  venture  to  pronounce  him  not  to  be  one.     There  are  no  traces  of 
fine  sensibiUty  and  his  specious  images  are  whipped  round  and  romid  agai^ 
in  endless  and  tiresome  succession.     His  vanity,  for  he  boasts  of  writintf 
Richmond  in  immortal  verse,  is  more  than  equalled  by  his  servile  fawm 
contemptible  adulation  of  the  great. 

There  are  philosophic  and  reHgious  speculations.     He  writ 
at  some  length  in  defence  of  annihilation  as  against  a  future  hfe,; 
and  later  he  notes : 


ADMIRAL    SIR  GEORGE   ROOKE  251 

Had  a  long  and  late  discussion  with  Miss  Barchard  after  supper  on  the 
doctrine  of  annihilation — congenial  theme  to  my  afflicted  spirit. 

After  hearing  a  sermon  in  which  the  preacher  deliberately 
avoided  the  question  of  the  authenticity  of  the  passage  on  which 
he  was  enlarging,  Green  writes  : 

Was  this  ignorance,  a  pious  fravid  or  merely  a  total  want  of  candour  ? 

He  enjoys  music,  and  insists  more  than  once  in  his  notes  that 
mere  proficiency  is  not  enough  both  in  singing  and  playing,  "  a 
cultivated  understanding  and  refined  sensibility  "  are  essential. 

He  describes  his  travels  and  the  sights  he  sees  in  a  few  of  the 
entries,  but  there  is  nothing  remarkable  in  this  part  of  the  diary. 

When  he  published  the  first  section  in  1803  he  is  very  modest 
in  his  preface  and  calls  it  "  the  idlest  work  probably  that  was 
ever  composed." 

A  fresh  edition  of  this  diary  might  well  be  pubhshed,  with  the 
second  portion  from  the  Gentleman'' s  Magazine  added. 


The  following  Diaries  in  this  century  may  also  he  briefly  noted  : — 
Admiral  Sir  George  Rooke 

The  two  diaries  kept  by  Sir  George  Rooke  are  typical  sailor's  diaries 
of  a  purely  professional  character.  The  first  records  events  from 
April  to  October,  1700,  when  he  was  in  command  of  the  expedition 
in  the  Sound  which  was  one  of  the  episodes  in  the  War  of  the  Spanish 
Succession. 

The  entries,  which  are  daily,  give  the  usual  nautical  information 
about  wind  and  weather  as  well  as  instructions  and  results  of  councils. 
The  diary  is  written  partly  in  the  third  person. 

The  second  diary  is  concerned  with  an  attack  on  Cadiz  and  Vigo 
in  1702,  and  extends  from  June,  1701,  to  January,  1703,  ending  up 
with  the  thanks  he  received  from  Parliament  on  his  return.  The 
entries  are  all  brief  and  technical. 

He  wastes  no  unnecessary  words  about  the  King's  death. 

March  8.  At  8  this  morning  his  Majesty  died  and  at  nine  we  went  towards 
Portsmouth  and  came  this  evening  to  Godalming. 

And  his  religious  exercises  are  related  with  the  same  brevity  as  his 
movements  or  the  changes  of  the  wind. 

Received  the  sacrament  at  Queenborough. 

Despatches,  orders  and  resolutions  in  council  are  written  out  in  full. 
The  diary  was  published  by  the  Navy  Record  Society  in  1897. 


252  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Peter  Oliver 

This  diary  shows  the  intention  of  the  author  to  write  a  record  of 
his  Hfe,  but  when  it  came  to  keeping  it  up  in  diary  form  he  does  not 
go  beyond  making  brief  business  entries  or  one-Hne  references  to 
pubhc  events.  From  1741  to  1781  he  writes  up  a  pretty  full  account  of 
his  career.  He  was  born  at  Boston,  U.S.A.,  and  came  over  to  England, 
where  he  practised  as  a  doctor.  In  1778  he  writes  a  eulogy  of  his 
wife,  who  died  in  that  year,  but  this  was  not  written  at  the  time.  The 
actual  diary  does  not  begin  till  1781,  and  then  the  entries  are  very 
brief  and  concern  only  his  goings  and  comings,  the  weather,  the  move- 
ments of  his  family  and  references  to  the  great  public  events  at  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  centuries.  It 
concludes  in  1821.  Medical  details  occur  from  time  to  time.  He 
describes  a  post  mortem  ;  he  notes  that  "  Mr.  Whitewood  made  me 
a  set  of  artificial  teeth  for  the  upper  jaw,  very  nice  and  elegant,"  and 
the  entry  "  Peggy's  nose  gains  fast "  may  or  may  not  be  medical. 

The  manuscript  of  the  diary,  which  is  contained  in  a  small  note-book 
of  seventy  pages,  is  in  the  British  Museum  (Eg.  MS.  2674). 

Thomas  Gyll 

Solicitor- General  of  the  County  Palatine  of  Durham,  Recorder  of 
the  City  of  Durham  and  historian  and  antiquary,  Thomas  Gyll  kept 
a  diary  from  1748  to  1778,  two  years  before  he  died  at  the  age  of  80. 
It  is  nothing  more  than  a  recital  of  deaths,  births,  and  marriages  of 
people  in  the  district  and  eminent  people  in  other  parts.  There  are 
references  to  architectural  changes  in  the  Cathedral  and  the  appoint- 
ment and  reception  of  a  new  Bishop.  Sometimes  he  makes  a  very 
short  comment  after  registering  the  date  of  a  death,  such  as  :  "  very 
good  sense  and  cheerful  temper,"  "  very  rich,"  "  had  insured  a  great 
deal,"  "  a  hopeful  young  man,"  "  she  was  a  woman  of  no  consequence. 
Ebria,  garrula,"  "  was  reckoned  to  sing  a  base  in  perfection,"  etc.  He 
records  a  picturesque  funeral  where  five  women  preceded  the  coffin 
in  hoods  of  white  Irish  linen  and  the  bearers  were  eight  widows  in 
hoods  and  scarfs  of  the  same  linen. 

Once  only  does  he  forget  his  official  manner  and  express  his  feelings  : 

1763.  Dec.  30.  Mr.  Hartley  did  not  invite  me  to  his  dinner  as  he  usually- 
had  done  for  many  years  on  a  groundless  and  shameful  pretense.  The  Lord 
forgive  him.     I  do,  but  he  is  inexorabilis  acer. 

The  diary  was  obviously  kept  as  a  useful  record  for  local  anti- 
quaries.    It  has  very  little  human  interest. 

A  transcript  of  the  diary  was  made  for  the  Surtees  Society  by  Canon 
Raine. 

Mrs.  Powys 

Caroline  Girle  was  taught  by  her  father  to  keep  a  diary.  Born  in 
1739,  she  began  at  17  to  write  diary  letters  to  her  father  and  then  to 


'  MRS.  POWYS  258 

keep  a  regular  journal  of  her  own.  Her  various  productions  cover 
the  period  from  1756  to  1808.  She  married  Philip  Powys  and  lived 
at  Hardwiek  House,  Oxfordshire. 

Mrs.  Powys'  diary  is  a  typical  social  diary  recording  movements, 
descriptions  of  scenery,  family  births  and  deaths,  notes  on  the  weather, 
comments  on  plays  and  as  many  references  as  possible  to  the  Royal 
Family.  She  makes  lists  of  people  at  dances  and  parties  and  she 
even  includes  menus.     After  a  ball  at  Bath  she  writes  : 

I  will  now  put  down  the  names  of  the  nobility  I  remember  to  have  been 
there  tho'  I've  no  doubt  I  shall  omit  many. 

Then  follows  a  list  which  occupies  more  than  a  page  ending 
"  besides  Baronets  and  their  wives  inumerable."  There  is  nothing 
of  the  smallest  interest  in  any  part  of  the  long  diary,  which  can  only 
have  value  as  a  famUy  record.  She  never  indulges  in  personal 
opinions  and  there  is  very  little  character  or  colour  in  her  memoranda. 
It  serves  as  a  good  instance  of  the  hopeless  dullness  of  these  social 
registers. 


NINETEENTH   CENTURY 

B.  R.   HAYDON 


HAYDON'S  diary  can  certainly  be  ranked  as  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  ever  written.  It  covers  practically 
his  whole  life,  and  is  contained  in  twenty-seven  foho 
volumes  interspersed  with  sketches.  With  few  breaks  it  is 
written  daily.  But  the  diary  is  much  more  than  merely  full 
and  regular,  it  gives  a  vivid,  highly-coloured,  even  blatant  picture 
of  the  extraordinary  career  of  this  extraordinary  man.  Every- 
thing about  him  was  excessive ;  never  has  lack  of  reserve  and 
restraint  been  carried  to  such  a  pitch.  He  painted  the  most 
gigantic  pictures,  his  conceit  was  immeasurable,  his  ambition 
was  hmitless,  in  moments  of  exaltation  he  soared  to  the  giddiest 
heights,  his  self-reproach  was  frantic,  his  depressions  hterally 
suicidal,  the  depth  of  his  despair  unfathomable,  liis  friendships 
rapturous,  his  enmities  violent,  he  worked  far  too  hard,  he  idled 
for  days  and  weeks  together,  and  all  these  exaggerations  are  re- 
flected with  mirror-hke  accuracy  in  the  pages  of  his  diary.  Ego- 
tism can  never  have  reached  such  a  height.  He  was  an  ego- 
maniac. But  when  he  can  leave  himself  for  a  moment  and 
describe  others,  recount  incidents,  and  repeat  conversation,  we 
find  so  skilful  and  brilliant  a  pen  that  the  character  sketches  and 
pen  portraits  which  we  try  to  commend  in  many  other  diaries 
seem  lifeless  and  flat  compared  to  his.  He  fancied  himself,  of 
course,  as  an  artist,  and  it  must  be  admitted,  in  spite  of  a  few 
qualified  successes  which  he  always  greatly  exaggerated,  he  was 
an  absolute  failure ;  he  fancied  himself  as  a  letter  writer  and 
as  a  lecturer,  and  he  was  fairly  good  in  both  capacities,  al- 
though in  his  letters  he  could  not  be  depended  upon  to  steer 
clear  of  rant  and  fustian.  But  he  never  says,  as  we  might  well 
expect,  "  this  diary  of  mine  is  going  to  be  one  of  the  most  extra- 
ordinary and  interesting  human  documents  ever  penned,"  and 
yet  it  is.     As  Sir  Sidney  Colvin  says  in  his  Life  of  Keats,  speaking 

254 


B.   R.   HAYDON  255 

of  Haydon  :  "  In  truth  Haydon's  cliief  intellectual  power  was 
as  an  observer  and  his  best  instrument  the  pen.  Readers  of  his 
journal  and  correspondence  know  how  vividly  and  tellingly  he 
can  relate  an  experience  or  touch  off  a  character.  In  this  gift 
of  striking  out  a  human  portrait  in  words  he  stood  second  in 
his  age,  if  second  to  Hazlitt  alone  and  in  our  later  literature  there 
has  been  no  one  to  beat  him  except  Carlyle."  But  outside  the 
diary,  where  in  liis  writing  he  aims  higher,  "  trying  to  become 
imaginative  and  impressive  we  find  only  the  same  self-satisfied 
void  turgidity  and  proof  of  spiritual  hollowness  disguised  by  tem- 
peramental fervour,  as  in  his  paintings." 

It  is  clear  that  he  wrote  for  publication  a  sort  of  apologia,  or 
vindication  of  his  life.  His  motive  is  more  or  less  disclosed  in 
the  following  entry  : 

I  acquired  in  early  life  a  great  love  of  the  journals  of  others  and  Johnson's 
recommendation  to  keep  them  honestly  I  always  bore  in  mind.  I  have  kept 
one  for  thirty  four  years.  It  is  the  history  in  fact  of  my  mind  and  in  all  my 
lectures  I  had  only  to  refer  to  them  for  such  and  such  opinions  to  look  when 
such  and  such  thoughts  had  occurred  and  I  found  my  journals  an  absolute 
capital  to  draw  upon.  I  hope  that  my  journals,  if  ever  they  are  thought 
worthy  of  publication  may  give  as  much  pleasure  to  others  as  other  journals 
have  given  a  delight  to  me. 

And  again  we  find  at  a  later  date  : 

I  write  this  without  a  single  shiUing  in  the  woi'ld,  with  a  large  pictm'e  before 
me  not  half  done,  yet  with  a  soul  aspiring,  ardent,  confident — tnisting  on 
God  for  protection  and  support.  ...  I  shall  read  this  again  with  delight 
and  others  will  read  it  with  wonder. 

Needless  to  say  Haydon  began  an  autobiography  covering  his 
life  from  his  birth  in  1786  up  to  1820,  but  the  autobiography  is 
largely  composed  of  extracts  copied  out  from  his  journals.  From 
1820  to  1846  the  journals  alone  exist. 

We  cannot  follow  the  ups  and  downs  of  his  career  nor  touch 
on  all  the  multitude  of  incidents  in  his  fife.  He  paints  a  large 
number  of  pictures,  he  is  generally  engaged  in  controversy, 
whether  it  is  the  defence  of  the  Elgin  marbles,  furious  attacks 
on  the  Academy  or  attempts  to  make  the  Government  patronise 
art.  He  is  nearly  always  in  debt ;  he  sponges  shamefully  on  his 
friends  ;  he  reads  a  great  deal ;  he  is  close  friends  with  a  number 
of  interesting  people,  including  Wilkie,  Keats,  Wordsworth, 
Scott,  Leigh  Hunt,  Lamb,  Hazhtt,  etc.  ;  he  comes  into  close 
contact  with  many  statesmen ;  he  marries,  has  children,  and 
shows  an  unfailing  devotion  to  his  wife ;    he  travels,  he  lectures 


256  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

<• 
and  he  writes.     But  it  is  naturally  impossible  out  of  this  volu- 
minous record  to  give  anything  more  than  a  few  illustrative 
extracts,  and  even  that  is  difficult,  as  there  are  throughout  com- 
paratively few  short  entries. 

One  habit  of  Haydon's  not  yet  referred  to  was  his  outpourings 
and  supplications  to  the  Almighty.  The  diary  is  literally  deluged 
in  them.  Like  everything  else,  it  is  overdone.  Pages  of  im- 
precation, of  penitence,  of  importunate  solicitation,  of  demands 
for  triumph,  in  fact  "  begging  letters  dispatched  to  the  Almighty," 
as  they  have  been  well  described.  Nevertheless  they  are  abso- 
lutely sincere.  As  these  prayers  are  the  accompaniment  or 
peroration  of  so  many  entries,  some  examples  of  them  may  be 
given. 

God  in  heaven,  on  my  knees,  I  pray  it  may  be  my  lot  to  realise  my  idea  of 
art  before  I  die,  and  I  will  yield  my  Bovl  into  Thy  hands  with  rapture.  Amen 
with  all  my  soul. 

0  God,  on  my  knees  I  htimbly,  humbly,  humbly  pray  Thee  to  enable  me  to 
go  through  it.  Let  no  diffieulties  obstruct  me,  no  ill  health  impede  me,  and 
let  no  sin  displease  Thee  from  its  commencement  to  its  conclusion.  Oh  save 
me  from  prison  on  the  confines  of  which  I  am  now  hovering.  I  have  no 
employment,  no  resources,  a  large  family  and  no  hope.  In  thee  alone  I 
always  trust.  Oh  let  me  not  now  trust  in  vain.  Grant,  O  God,  that  the 
education  of  my  children,  my  duties  to  my  love  and  to  Society,  may  not  be 
sacrificed  in  proceeding  with  this  great  work  (it  will  be  my  greatest).  Bless 
its  commencement,  its  progression,  its  conclusion  and  its  effect  for  the  sake 
of  the  intellectual  elevation  of  my  great  and  glorious  coimtry. 

Oh  Almighty  God  !  It  is  now  thirty  years  since  I  commenced  my  picture 
of  Solomon  ;  though  deserted  by  the  world,  my  family,  father,  friends.  Thou 
knowest  well  that  I  trusted  in  Thee  ;  that  Thou  didst  inspire  my  spirit  with 
a  fiery  confidence  ;  that  Thou  didst  whisper  me  to  endtire  as  seeing  One  who 
is  invisible  :  Thou  knowest  I  never  doubted  though  without  money,  though  in 
debt,  though  oppressed.  I  prayed  for  thy  blessing  on  my  commencing  labours. 
Thou  carriedst  me  through  to  victory  and  trivimph  and  exultation. 

1  ask  from  my  heart  Thou  good  Being  to  be  saved  with  my  family  from  the 
fatal  ruin  which  must  overwhelm  me  and  them  without  Thy  interference 
promising  repentance  sincere  and  intense. 

Occasionally  the  inclination  for  prayer  is  not  so  acute : 

Sent  my  children  to  church  but  did  not  read  prayers  to  myself  which  is 
wicked  and  ungrateful.     The  reason  is  I  am  in  no  danger  pecimiarily — felfi 
no  want  of  God's  protection  and  forget  his  past  mercies.     This  shows  what 
human  gratitude  is. 

And  once  he  has  a  misgiving  that  his  importunity  towards  the 
Almighty  has  been  overdone  : 


B.   R.   HAYDON  257 

Perhaps  I  have  presumed  too  much  on  the  goodness  of  my  Creator — appealed 
to  Him  too  much  and  too  freely. 

The  best  way  to  give  some  idea  of  Haydon's  alternating  moods 
of  wild  elation  or  of  utter  despair  will  be  to  give  a  series  of  ex- 
tracts which  concern  his  painting  and  his  debts.  His  excitement 
over  the  conception,  composition  and  the  performance  of  his 
painting,  and  even  over  the  varnishing  of  his  pictures,  is  so  well 
described  in  some  entries  which  cover  days  or  weeks  that  a  reader 
cannot  help  catching  some  of  the  frenzy  of  enthusiasm  that 
consumed  him.     But  here  the  briefer  references  must  suffice. 

1815.  Never  have  I  had  such  irresistible  and  perpetual  vu-gings  of  future 
greatness.  I  have  been  like  a  man  with  air  balloons  under  his  arm  pits  and 
ether  in  his  soul.  While  I  was  painting  walking  or  thinking  beaming  flashes 
of  energy  followed  and  impressed  me. 

1823.  Well  I  am  in  prison.  So  were  Bacon,  Raleigh,  Cervantes.  Vanity  ! 
Vanity  !  Here's  a  consolation  !  I  started  from  sleep  repeatedly  during  the 
night  from  the  songs  and  roarings  of  the  other  prisoners. 

1824.  Completed  my  yesterday's  work  and  obliged  to  sally  forth  to  get 
money  in  consequence  of  the  buUying  insolence  of  a  short,  wicked-eyed, 
wrinkled,  waddhng,  gin-drinking,  dirty,  ruflfled  landlady — poor  old  bit  of 
asthmatic  humanity  !  As  I  was  finishing  the  faim's  foot  in  she  bounced  and 
demanded  the  four  pounds  with  the  air  of  an  old  demirep  duchess.  I  irritated 
her  by  my  smile  and  turned  her  out.  I  sat  down  quietly  and  finished  my 
foot.     Fielding  should  have  seen  the  old  devil. 

Passed  in  desponding  on  the  future.  Not  a  shilling  in  the  world.  Sold 
nothing  and  not  likely  to.  Baker  called  and  was  insolent.  If  he  were  to 
stop  the  supplies  Grod  knows  what  would  become  of  my  children.  Landlord 
called — kind  and  sorry.  Butcher  called,  respectful  but  disappointed.  Tailor 
good-humoured  and  willing  to  wait. 

I  saw  the  head  of  Lazarus  as  the  hand  of  Christ  after  a  year's  absence,  and 
if  God  in  his  mercy  spare  that  picture  my  posthumous  reputation  is  secured. 
O  God  !  Grant  it  may  reach  the  National  Gallery  in  a  few  years  and  be 
placed  in  fair  competition  with  Sebastian  del  Piombo.  I  ask  no  more  to 
obtain  fair  justice  from  the  world. 

I  leave  ofi  wearied  and  commence  in  disgust.  I  candidly  confess  I  find  my 
glorious  art  a  bore. 

1825.  My  fits  continue.  I  am  all  fits— fits  of  work,  fits  of  idleness,  fits 
of  reading,  fits  of  walking,  fits  of  Italian,  fits  of  Greek,  fits  of  Latin,  fits  of 
French,  fits  of  Napoleon,  fits  of  the  navy,  fits  of  the  army,  fits  of  religion. 
My  dear  Mary's  lovely  face  is  the  only  thing  that  has  escaped— a  fit  that  never 
varies. 

1826.  Reinagle  said  he  thought  me  infamously  used  and  wondered  I  had 
not  gone  mad  or  died.  '  Where  is  your  Solomon,  Mr.  Haydon  ?  '  *  Hung 
up  in  a  grocer's  shop.'     '  Where  your  Jerusalem  ?  '     '  In  a  ware  room  in 

17 


258  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Holbom.'  '  Where  your  Lazarus  ?  '  '  In  an  upholsterer's  shop  in  Mount 
Street.'  '  And  your  Macbeth  ?  '  'In  Chancery.'  '  Your  Pharaoh  ?  '  'In 
an  attic  pledged.'  '  My  God  and  your  Crucifixion  ?  '  '  In  a  hayloft.'  'And 
Silenus  ?  '     '  Sold  for  half  price.' 

1827.  I  do  not  despair ;  and  something  whispers  me  that  I  shall  yet  do 
greater  things  than  I  have  ever  yet  done  and  that  my  knowledge  will  not  be 
suffered  to  leave  the  world  without  a  period  arriving  of  full  development. 

To  relieve  the  pressure  of  necessity  he  took  to  portrait  paint- 
ing, which  he  loathed : 

1830.  Finished  a  rascally  portrait,  the  last  I  have  got— a  poor,  pale  faced, 
Bkinny  creature  who  was  biting  his  lips  to  make  them  look  red,  rubbing  his 
hair,  and  asking  me  if  I  did  not  think  he  had  a  good  eye. 

1831.  A  quarter  to  nine.  This  moment  I  have  conceived  my  background 
stronger  than  ever.  I  strode  about  the  room  imitating  the  blast  of  a  trumpet 
—my  cheeks  full  of  blood  and  my  heart  beating  with  a  glorious  heat.  Oh 
who  would  change  these  moments  for  a  throne  ? 

Another  last  day  of  another  year.  What  have  I  to  say  ?  Nothing  but  that 
after  forty  five  years  I  have  been  more  irresolute,  more  idle,  more  dotmg,  more 
unworthy  of  my  name  than  any  preceding  year  of  my  life. 

1835  The  agony  of  my  necessities  is  really  dreadfvd.  For  this  year  I 
have  principaUy  supported  myseU  by  the  help  of  my  landlord  and  by  pamiing 
everything  of  any  value  I  have  left  until  at  last  it  is  come  to  my  clothes  a 
thing  in  all  my  wants  I  never  did  before.  I  UteraUy  to-day  sent  out  my  dinner 
suit  which  cost  £10  and  got  £2.15  on  it  for  to-night's  necessities.  Oh  it  la 
dreadful  beyond  expression  !  I  could  not  go  to  dearest  Mary  and  ask  her  for 
her  Uttle  jewelries  ;  but  I  am  now  if  invited  to  dinner  without  a  dress  to  dine 
in. 

1836.  Set  my  palette  to-day,  the  first  time  these  eleven  weeks  and  three 
days.  I  relished  the  oil ;  could  have  tasted  the  colour  ;  rubbed  my  cheeks 
with  the  brushes  and  kissed  the  palette. 

1840.  It  is  extraordinary  that  with  a  large  canvas  in  the  house  I  always 
feel  as  if  Satan  crossing  Chaos  was  no  match  for  me.  My  heart  beats  ;  my 
breast  broadens  ;  my  height  rises  ;  my  cheek  warms.  How  I  would  sweU 
in  a  Vatican  or  a  dome  of  St.  Paul's  !  O  God  bless  me  before  I  die.  Why 
such  talents— why  such  desires— such  longings  if  to  pine  in  hopeless  ambition 
and  endless  agonies  ?     In  Thee  I  trust  O  God. 

I  want  to  get  that  broad  style  of  imitating  nature  I  see  in  the  great  masters— 
not  in  Vandyke,  but  in  Titian,  Correggio,  Angelo,  Tintoretto,  Rembrandt 
and  Reynolds.     Founded  as  I  am  I  know  I  could  improve  on  it ;  I'll  try. 

1842.  Thank  God  with  aU  my  soul  and  all  my  nature  my  children  have 
witnessed  the  harassing  agonies  under  which  I  have  ever  painted ;  and  the 
very  name  of  painting— the  very  name  of  high  art— the  very  thought  of  a 
picture  gives  them  a  hideous  and  disgusting  taste  in  their  mouths.  Thankl 
God,  not  one  of  my  boys,  nor  my  girl  can  draw  a  straight  line  even  with  a 
ruler  much  less  without  one.     And  I  pray  God  on  my  knees  with  my  forehead 


\ 


B.   R.   HAYDON  259 

bent  to  the  earth  and  my  lips  to  the  dust  that  he  will  in  his  mercy  aflflict  them 
with  every  other  passion  appetite  or  misery,  with  wretchedness,  disease, 
insanity,  or  gabbling  idiotism  rather  than  a  longing  for  painting — that  scorned 
miserable  art — that  greater  imposture  than  the  human  species  it  imitates. 

Three  days  later  : 

Huzza — huzza — huzza  and  one  cheer  more  !  My  cartoon  is  up  and  makes 
my  heart  beat  as  all  large  bare  spaces  do  and  ever  have  done.  Difficulties  to 
conquer.  Victories  to  win.  Enemies  to  beat.  The  nation  to  please.  The 
honour  of  England  to  be  kept  up.  Huzza — huzza — huzza  and  one  cheer 
more  ! 

Though  Haydon  was  the  moving  spirit  in  pressing  for  the  decora- 
tion of  the  House  of  Lords,  when  the  opportunity  for  executing 
the  great  decorative  work  came,  his  cartoons  were  rejected  and 
he  was  passed  over.  He  never  recovered  from  the  bitterness 
of  the  disappointment. 

1834.  Went  and  removed  my  cartoons.  Thus  ends  the  cartoon  contest, 
and  as  the  first  inventor  and  beginner  of  this  mode  of  rousing  the  people  when 
they  were  pronounced  incapable  of  relishing  refined  works  of  art  without 
colour  I  am  deeply  wounded  at  the  insult  inflicted.  These  journals  witness 
under  what  trials  I  began  them — how  I  called  on  my  Creator  for  His  blessing — 
how  I  trusted  in  Him  and  how  I  have  been  degraded,  insulted,  harassed. 
O  Lord  thou  knowest  best.     I  submit.     Amen. 

Still  his  fits  of  optimism  return  : 

Alexander  the  Great  was  before  me — a  mutton  chop  on  the  coals.  I  had 
just  written  to  Wordsworth.  .  .  .  My  chop  was  cooked  to  a  tee ;  I  ate  like 
a  Red  Indian  ;  and  drank  the  cool  translucent  with  a  gusto  a  wine  connoisseur 
knows  not.  I  then  thought  the  distant  cloud  was  too  much  advanced  so 
toning  it  down  with  black  I  hit  the  mark  and  pronounced  the  work  done — 
lo  Poe-an  !  and  I  fell  on  my  knees  and  thanked  God  and  bowed  my  forehead 
and  touched  the  groimd  and  sprung  up  my  heart  beating  at  the  anticipation 
of  greater  work  and  a  more  terrific  struggle.  This  is  B.  R.  Haydon — the  real 
man — may  he  live  a  thousand  years  !   and  here  he  sneezed — lucky  ! 

Haydon's  enthusiasm  was  infectious ;  it  bhnded  his  friends  to 
the  mediocre  character  of  his  performances  as  an  artist.  But 
it  is  a  great  tribute  to  his  personahty  that  he  should  have  at- 
tracted so  many  of  the  best  minds  of  the  day  to  his  studio.  When 
he  has  to  change  his  quarters  owing  to  debt,  he  writes  : 

What  pleasure  have  I  enjoyed  in  this  study  !  In  it  have  talked  to  Walter 
Scott,  Wordsworth,  Keats,  Proctor,  Belzoni,  Campbell,  Canova,  Cuvier,  Lamb, 
Knowles,  Hazlitt,  Wilkie  and  other  spirits  of  the  time.  And  above  all  thy 
sweet  and  sacred  face,  my  Mary,  was  its  chief  grace,  its  ornament,  its  sunbeam. 

It  is  after  one  of  the  evenings  of  discussion  in  his  studio  that 


260  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

he  catches  with  a  single  happy  phrase  the  exact  reflection  of  the 
passing  mood  and  scene: 

Spent  a  delightful  evening  with  old  friends.  .  .  .  When  they  were  gone  I 
felt  the  solitude  of  the  scattered  chairs. 

Of  course  his  friendships  were,  hke  everything  else,  rapturous 
to  danger  point,  and  many  were  ended  by  quarrels. 

Keats  is  a  man  after  my  own  heart.  He  sympathises  with  me  and  compre- 
hends me.  We  saw  through  each  other  and  I  hope  are  friends  for  ever.  I 
only  know  that  if  I  sell  my  pictm-e  Keats  shall  never  want  till  another  is  done 
that  he  may  have  leisure  for  his  effusions  ;  in  short  he  shall  never  want  all  his 
life. 

This  did  not  prevent  him  from  borrowing  from  Keats  at  a 
time  when  the  unfortunate  poet  was  least  able  to  afford  it. 

He  describes  Keats  reading  out  his  poems  "  in  a  low  tremulous 
undertone."  Keats  writes  a  sonnet  to  him.  Wordsworth 
several.  Shelley's  conversational  opening  "  as  to  that  detestable 
rehgion,  the  Christian,"  makes  Haydon  "  Hke  a  stag  at  bay  and 
resolved  to  gore  without  mercy."  With  Leigh  Hunt,  with  Rey- 
nolds and  others  he  quarrelled.  His  capricious  humours  are  all 
depicted  in  the  pages  of  the  diary.  The  best  of  all  the  scenes 
perhaps  is  the  description  of  the  dinner  when  Lamb  was  drunk 
and  chaffed  most  unmercifully  a  pompous  official,  Kingston,  the 
Comptroller  of  Stamps.  It  is  far  too  long  to  quote,  but,  as  Sir 
Sidney  Colvin  says,  it  is  "  thrust  before  us  in  the  insistent  colour 
^and  illumination  of  a  magic  lantern  picture." 

A  comparison  of  Moore  and  Wordsworth  may  be  quoted  show- 
ing that  Haydon  could  appreciate  a  character  very  different  from 
his  own. 

Moore  is  a  delightful,  nay,  voluptuous,  refined  natural  creature  ;  infinitely 
more  unaffected  than  Wordsworth  ;  not  blimt  and  vuicultivated  like  Chantrey 
or  bilious  and  shivering  like  Campbell.  No  afiectation,  but  a  true,  refined, 
delicate  frank  poet  with  sufficient  honesty  of  manner  to  show  fashion  has  not 
corrupted  his  native  taste  ;  making  allowance  for  prejudices  instead  of  con- 
demning them,  by  which  he  seemed  to  have  none  himself  ;  never  talking  of 
his  own  works  from  intense  consciousness  that  everybody  else  did  ;  while 
Wordsworth  is  always  talking  of  his  own  productions  from  apprehension  that 
they  are  not  enough  matter  of  conversation. 

This  amusing  little  miniature  of  Chantrey  is  also  worthy  of 
notice. 

I  called  on  Chantrey  at  Brighton.  I  had  not  seen  him  for  eight  years  and 
was  astonished  and  interested.  He  took  snuff  in  abvmdance.  His  nose  at 
the  top  was  bottled  large  and  brown,  his  cheeks  fvdl,  his  person  corpulent,  his 


B.   R.   HAYDON  261 

air  indolent,  his  tone  a  little  pompous.  Such  were  the  effects  of  eight  years' 
success.  He  sat  and  talked  easily,  lazily  gazing  at  the  sun  with  his  legs 
crossed. 

Haydon,  too,  was  brought  or  rather  forced  himself  with  his 
innate  effrontery  into  the  company  of  statesmen.  He  exasper- 
ated them  with  his  petitions  and  begging  letters,  he  bored  them, 
he  pestered  them,  he  never  took  a  snub,  he  persisted  and  at  last 
he  succeeded  in  interviewing  them,  in  painting  them,  and  even 
staying  with  them,  and  we  can  see  that,  in  spite  of  their  exas- 
peration, they  were  intensely  amused  and  entertained  by  him. 
They,  like  everyone  else,  come  in  for  praise  or  blame  according 
to  his  mood  and  circumstances.  As  Macaulay  says  :  "  Whether 
you  struck  him  or  stroked  him,  starved  him  or  fed  him,  he 
snapped  at  your  hand  in  just  the  same  way." 

Lord  Grey  is  in  high  favour  at  one  time  : 

Lord  Grey  was  enough  yesterday  to  make  any  man  begin  with  champagne 
the  moment  he  was  gone.  He  looked  like  the  first  glass  after  the  bursting 
pop. 

Lord  Grey  was  looking  the  essence  of  mildness.  He  seemed  disposed  for 
a  chat.  In  my  eagerness  to  tell  him  all  I  wanted  to  know  I  sprang  off  my 
chair  and  began  to  explain  bending  my  fist  to  enforce  my  argument.  Lord 
Grey  looked  at  me  with  a  mild  peacefulness  of  expression  as  if  regarding  a  bit 
of  gtinpowder  he  had  admitted  to  disturb  his  thoughts. 

Lord  Melbourne's  interviews  are  described  at  some  length. 
He  was  evidently  amused  by  Haydon,  always  broke  into  a  laugh, 
rubbed  his  hands,  or  "  went  to  the  glass  and  began  to  comb  his 
hair."  "  God  help  the  Minister  that  meddles  with  Art,"  he  says 
to  his  impetuous  interviewer  on  one  occasion. 

Sir  Robert  Peel  was  a  very  good  friend  to  Haydon  and  helped 
him  on  more  than  one  occasion.  But  Haydon  shows  little 
gratitude  and  is  generally  unreasonable. 

Lord  Egremont  was  one  of  his  patrons,  and  while  lying  in  bed 
in  a  magnificent  chamber  in  Petworth,  the  painter  muses  : 

What  a  destiny  is  mine  !  One  year  in  the  Bench,  the  companion  of  gam- 
blers and  scoundrels — sleeping  in  wretchedness  and  dirt  on  a  flock  bed,  low 
and  filthy  with  black  worms  crawling  over  my  hands — another  in  a  splendid 
house,  the  guest  of  rank  and  fashion  and  beauty. 

But  the  most  finished  picture — ^needless  to  say  not  of  his  brush, 
but  of  his  pen — is  the  Duke  of  Welhngton.  In  a  correspondence 
extending  over  some  considerable  period  the  Duke  positively  snubs 
his  head  off.  Undismayed,  Haydon  persists,  and  he  not  only 
pbtains  the  Duke's  consent  to  sit,  but  he  is  invited  to  Walmer 


262  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

for  a  visit  of  several  daj^s.  The  Duke  treats  him  with  the  most 
gentlemanhke  courtesy,  and  Haydon  on  his  side  falls  into  adora- 
tion of  "  the  greatest  man  on  earth  and  the  noblest — the  conqueror 
of  Napoleon."  All  the  little  touches  about  each  day  o!  the  visit 
bring  the  scene  before  one  with  microscopic  clearness.  The 
Duke  seated  reading  the  newspaper  with  a  lighted  candle  "  on 
each  side  of  his  venerable  head,"  asking  him  if  he  will  have  black 
tea  or  green,  giving  a  tremendous  yawn  before  bed  time,  showing 
him  up  to  his  room,  sitting  for  the  portrait  always  patiently  but 
never  looking  at  it  ("D'ye  want  another  sitting  ?  Very  well, 
after  hunting  I'll  come"):  telling  anecdotes,  putting  on  "a 
fine  dashing  waistcoat  for  the  Russian  Ambassador  "  and  then 
in  church — 

Arthur  Wellesley  in  the  village  church  of  Walmer  this  day  was  more  inter- 
esting  to  me  than  at  the  last  charge  of  the  Guards  at  Waterloo. 

The  Duke  was  no  doubt  tickled  by  the  whole  proceeding ;  we 
can  hear  him  chuckling  in  the  passage  when  Haydon  writes  : 

He  said :  '  I  hope  you  are  satisfied.  Goodbye.'  I  heard  him  go  to  bed  after 
me,  laughing,  and  he  roared  out  to  Arbuthnot '  Good-night.'  I  then  heard 
him  slam  the  door  of  his  room  No.  11  next  to  mine  No.  10  but  on  the  opposite 
Bide  a  little  further  along. 

Amongst  humbler  people  there  is  no  worse  instance  of  Hay- 
don's  ingratitude  than  his  references  to  his  landlord  Newton, 
who  not  only  allowed  him  to  stay  on  without  paying  rent,  but 
often  helped  him  with  money.  But  here  again  he  refers  at  one 
time  to  his  insults  and  then  expresses  later  his  devotion  to  him. 

His  poMtical  were  no  less  intense  than  his  artistic,  literary 
and  rehgious  interests,  and  contained  exactly  the  same  elements 
of  shrewdness  and  perception,  marred  by  blatant  over-emphasis 
and  commonness  of  mind.  He  plunges  into  foreign  pohtics, 
the  reform  movement  and  other  questions  with  great  zeal,  and 
peppers  his  diary  with  scathing  and  enthusiastic  comments. 
Haydon  could  never  do  things  Hke  other  people,  or  rather  the  most 
ordinary  things  in  his  mind  became  transformed  and  distorted. 
A  visit  to  Brighton  would  be  a  fairly  commonplace  event  for  most 
people  and  they  would  enter  in  their  diary  "  went  to  Brighton ; 
bathed";  but  Haydon  rushes  to  Brighton,  where  he  "rolled 
in  the  sea,  shouted  like  a  savage,  laved  his  sides  like  a  bull  in  a 
green  meadow,  dived,  swam,  floated,  and  came  out  refreshed." 

As  may  well  be  imagined,  he  gradually  wore  himself  out  in 
mind  and  body.  Debt  and  disappointment  got  the  upper  hand, 
and  his  buoyant  vitality  was  at  last  vanquished.    In  June,  1846, 


B.   R.   HAYDON  263 

the  entries  show  constant  anxiety,  though  there  are  attempts 
at  work.     The  last  four  entries  may  be  given  : 

18th.     O  God  bless  me  through  evils  of  this  day.     Great  anxiety.     My 
landlord  Newton  called.     I  said  "  I  see  a  quarter's  rent  in  thy  face  but  none 
from  me."     I  appointed  to-morrow  night  to  see  him  and  lay  before  him  every 
iota  of  my  position.     Good  hearted  Newton  !     I  said:    "Don't  put  in  an 
execution."     "  Nothing  of  the  sort  "  he  replied  half  hurt.     I  sent  the  Duke, 
Wordsworth,  dear  Fred   and   Mary's  heads  to  Miss  Barrett   to  protect.     I 
have  the  Duke's  boots  and  hat  and  Lord  Grey's  coat  and  some  more  heads. 
20th.     O  God  bless  us  all  through  the  evils  of  this  day.     Amen. 
21st.     Slept  horribly.     Prayed  in  sorrow  and  got  up  in  agitation. 
22nd.     God  forgive  me.     Amen. 

Finis 
of 
B.  B.  Haydon. 
Stretch  me  no  longer  on  this  rough  world  (Lear). 

He  made  this  last  entry  at  half-past  ten,  and  about  an  hour 
later  his  body  was  found  with  a  frightful  gash  in  his  throat  and 
a  bullet  wound  in  his  skull.  On  his  easel  was  his  unfinished 
picture  of  King  Alfred.  On  a  table  near  was  his  diary  open  at 
the  page  of  the  last  entry,  a  prayer  book  and  a  paper  headed 
"  last  Thoughts  of  B.  R.  Haydon,  half  past  ten." 

In  this  paper,  which  is  a  sort  of  will  divided  into  a  number  of 
clauses,  he  wrote  : 

In  the  name  of  my  God  I  hope  for  forgiveness  for  the  step  I  am  about  to 
take — a  crime  no  doubt  but  if  I  am  judged  immediately  hereafter  I  have  done 
nothing  all  my  life  that  will  render  me  fearful  of  appearing  before  the  awful 
consciousness  of  my  invisible  God  or  hesitate  to  explain  my  actions. 

In  earlier  years  he  had  more  than  once  discussed  the  ethics 
of  suicide  in  his  diary ;  one  conclusion  he  came  to  was  :  "I  am 
not  so  convinced  of  the  wickedness  of  suicide  as  I  am  of  its  folly." 
But  the  continued  crises,  the  passionate  longings  and  repeated 
disappointments  no  doubt  ended  by  unhinging  a  mind  the  balance 
of  which  had  always  been  uncertain.  In  his  last  paper  he  asks 
the  pardon  of  his  wife  and  children,  "  for  the  additional  pang 
— ^but  it  will  be  the  last  and  released  from  the  burthen  of  my 
ambition  they  will  be  happier  and  suffer  less." 

Haydon's  pictures  are  forgotten ;  but  in  his  diary,  by  the  very 
want  of  reticence,  which  was  perhaps  his  chief  defect,  he  has 
left  a  wonderful  portrait  of  himself. 

The  twenty-seven  manuscript  volumes  are  in  the  British 
Museum.  They  were  edited  and  used  by  Tom  Taylor  in  a 
biography  published  in  1853. 


BYRON 

MOORE  in  his  Life  of  Byron  gives  extracts  from  the 
poet's  diary,  with  "  the  omission  of  some  portion  of  its 
contents  and  unluckily  too  of  that  very  portion  which 
from  its  reference  to  the  secret  pursuits  and  feelings  of  the  writer 
would  most  likely  pique  and  gratify  the  curiosity  of  the  reader." 
Byron  literature  is  now  so  voluminous,  and  every  aspect  of  his 
genius  and  character  has  been  so  carefully  examined,  that  his 
fragmentary  diary,  even  when  complete,  covers  only  a  very  small 
part  of  the  ground.  Nevertheless  in  a  collection  of  diaries  the 
fragments  certainly  deserve  a  prominent  place,  because  Byron, 
though  not  a  diarist  in  the  sense  that  he  kept  a  regular  journal 
for  any  long  period,  shows  in  the  entries  he  does  make  just  the 
recklessness,  humour  and  egotism  which  go  to  make  a  lively 
human  document. 

The  three  diary  periods  are  very  short,  and  Moore's  winnowing 
takes  place  within  these  periods.  Byron  only  kept  a  journal 
from  November  14,  1813,  to  April  19,  1814,  during  his  expedition 
in  the  Alps  in  1816,  and  in  January  and  February,  1821.  Each 
time  he  writes  daily,  sometimes  more  than  once  in  the  day  and 
generally  at  considerable  length. 

Some  idea  is  given  of  his  motive  in  keeping  a  diary  in  the 
following  entry : 

This  journal  is  a  relief.  When  I  am  tired — as  I  generally  am — out  comes 
this  and  down  goes  everything.  But  I  can't  read  it  over  :  and  God  knows 
what  contradictions  it  may  contain.  If  I  am  sincere  with  myself  (but  I  fear 
one  lies  more  to  one's  self  than  to  anyone  else)  every  page  should  confute, 
refute  and  utterly  abjure  its  predecessor. 

He  begins  writing  at  the  age  of  25. 

1813.  Nov.  14.  If  this  had  been  begun  ten  years  ago  and  faithfully 
kept  !  !  !  Heigho  !  There  are  too  many  things  I  wish  never  to  have  remem- 
bered as  it  is.  .  .  .  At  five  and  twenty  when  the  better  part  of  life  is  over  one 
should  be  something  ;  and  what  am  I  ?  Nothing  but  five  and  twenty — and  the 
odd  months, 

?64 


BYRON  265 

When  he  misses  writing  for  two  days  he  begins : 

Two  days  missed  in  my  log  book  :  hiatus  hand  defiendus.  They  were  as 
little  worth  recollection  as  the  rest ;  and  luckily  laziness  or  society  prevented 
me  from  noticing  them. 

Everything  is  noted — his  reading,  his  writing,  criticisms  of 
the  people  he  meets,  opinions  on  public  affairs,  dinners,  parties, 
solitude  all  wrapt  up  in  general  reflections  on  life  and  interspersed 
with  details  about  his  food,  his  health,  and  his  moods.  Whether 
he  lies  or  tells  the  truth  does  not  much  signify.  He  writes  with  a 
natural  formless  spontaneity  and  brilUance  that  makes  every  line 
readable.  We  can  but  make  arbitrary  selections — little  slices 
from  the  rather  rich  cake,  and  as  the  diaries  are  so  short  we  will 
go  along,  lifting  in  chronological  order  bits  as  we  pass. 

The  first  entry  contains  this  on  speaking  in  the  House  of  Lords  : 

I  have  spoken  tkrice  but  I  doubt  my  ever  becoming  an  orator.  My  first 
was  liked  ;  the  second  and  third — I  don't  know  whether  they  succeeded  or  not. 
I  have  never  yet  set  to  it  con  amore  :  one  must  have  some  excuse  to  one's 
self  for  laziness,  or  inability  or  both  and  this  is  mine  '^^Company,  villainous 
company  hath  been  the  spoil  of  me  '  ; — and  then  I  have  '  drunk  medicines  ' 
not  to  make  me  love  others  but  certainly  enough  to  hate  myself. 

He  visits  a  menagerie  : 

Such  a  conversazione  !  There  was  a  hippopotamus  like  Lord  Liverpool  in 
the  face  and  the  Ursine  Sloth  hath  the  very  voice  and  manner  of  my  valet — 
but  the  tiger  talked  too  much.  The  elephant  took  and  gave  me  my  money 
again — took  off  my  hat — opened  a  door — trunked  a  whip — and  behaved  so 
well  that  I  wish  he  was  my  butler. 

A  visit  to  the  dentist : 

Went  to  Waite's.  Teeth  all  right  and  white  ;  but  he  says  that  I  grind  them 
in  my  sleep  and  clip  the  edges. 

He  had  just  finished  writing  "The  Bride  of  Abydos."  On 
November  17  we  hear  something  of  this,  and  also  about  his 
extraordinary  diet  regulations. 

Mr.  Murray  has  offered  me  one  thousand  guineas  for  "  The  Giaour  "  and 
the  "  Bride  of  Abydos."  I  won't — it  is  too  much,  though  I  am  strongly 
"tempted  merely  for  the  say  of  it.  No  bad  price  for  a  fortnight's  (a  week  each) 
what  ? — the  Gods  know — it  was  intended  to  be  called  poetry. 

I  have  dined  regularly  to-day  for  the  first  time  since  Sunday  last — this 
being  Sabbath  too. 

All  the  rest  tea  and  dry  biscuits — six  per  diem.  I  wish  to  God  I  had  not  dined 
now  !  It  kiUs  me  with  heaviness  stupor  and  horrible  dreams  and  yet  it  was 
but  a  pint  of  bucellas  and  fish.     Meat  I  never  touch  nor  much  vegetable  diet. 


266  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  would  not  so  much  mind  a  little  accession  of  flesh — ^my  bones  can  well  bear 
it.  But  the  worst  is,  the  devil  always  came  with  it — tiU  I  starved  him  out — 
and  I  will  not  be  the  slave  of  atiy  appetite.  If  I  do  err  it  shall  be  my  heart  at 
least  that  heralds  the  way.  Oh  my  head — how  it  aches  ?  the  horrors  of 
digestion  !     I  wonder  how  Buonaparte's  dinner  agrees  with  him. 

On  November  22  we  get  this  reflection  when  he  is  talking  about 
the  affairs  of  the  world  abroad : 

A  little  tumult  now  and  then  is  an  agreeable  quickener  of  sensation  ;  such 
as  a  revolution  a  battle  or  an  aventure  of  any  lively  description. 

He  begins  on  November  23  about  Ward,  afterwards  Lord 
Dudley : 

Ward — I  like  Ward.  By  Mahomet  I  begin  to  think  I  like  everybody  ; — a 
disposition  not  to  be  encouraged — a  sort  of  social  gluttony  that  swallows 
everything  set  before  it.  But  I  like  Ward.  He  is  piquant;  and  in  my 
opinion  wiU  stand  very  high  in  the  House  and  everywhere  else  if  he  applies 
regularly.  By  the  by  I  dine  with  him  to-morrow  which  may  have  some 
influence  on  my  opinion.  It  is  as  well  not  to  trust  one's  gratitude  after  dinner. 
I  have  heard  many  a  host  libelled  by  his  guests  with  his  burgundy  yet  reeking 
on  their  rascally  lips. 

Philosophising  on  public  affairs  later  on  the  same  day  (for 
there  are  three  separate  entries  on  this  day),  he  says  : 

My  hopes  are  limited  to  the  arrangement  of  my  afiairs  and  settling  either 
in  Italy  or  the  East  (rather  the  last)  and  drinking  deep  of  the  languages  and 
literature  of  both.  Past  events  have  imnerved  me  and  all  I  can  do  is  to  make 
life  an  amusement  and  look  on  while  others  play.  After  all  even  the  highest 
game  of  crowns  and  sceptres  what  is  it  ? 

On  this  day,  too,  we  get  his  opinion  of  his  future  wife  : 

Yesterday  a  very  pretty  letter  from  Aimabella  which  I  answered.  What 
an  odd  situation  and  friendship  is  ours  !  Without  one  spark  of  love  on  either 
side  and  produced  by  circvunstances  which  in  general  lead  to  coldness  on  one 
side  and  aversion  on  the  other.  She  is  a  very  superior  woman  and  very  little 
spoiled  which  is  strange  in  an  heiress.  .  .  .  She  is  a  poetess,  a  mathematician, 
a  metaphysician  and  yet  withal  very  kind,  generous,  and  gentle  vsdth  very 
little  pretension.  Any  other  head  would  be  turned  with  half  her  acquisitions 
and  a  tenth  of  her  advantages. 

The  entry  on  the  next  day  ends  with  the  following  reflection  : 

I  shall  soon  be  six  and  twenty. 

Is  there  anything  in  the  future  that  can  possibly  console  us  for  not  being 
always  twenty  five. 

Oh  Gioventit ! 
Oh  Primavera !   gioventH  deW  anno. 
Oh  OioventHi  I  primavera  deUa  vita. 


BYRON  267 

The  careless  ease  with  which  he  scribbled  down  just  what  came 
into  his  head  can  be  shown  in  the  end  of  his  entry  on  December 
6  and  the  beginning  of  his  entry  on  the  following  day : 

I  shall  now  smoke  two  cigars  and  get  me  to  bed.  The  cigars  don't  keep  well 
here.  They  get  as  old  as  a  donna  di  quarant  anni  in  the  sun  of  Africa.  The 
Havannah  are  the  best — but  neither  are  so  pleasant  as  a  hooker  or  chibogue. 
The  Tm"kish  tobacco  is  mild  and  their  horses  entire — two  things  as  they 
should  be.  I  am  so  far  obliged  to  this  Journal  that  it  preserves  me  from 
verse — at  least  from  keeping  it.  I  have  just  tlirown  a  poem  into  the  fire 
(which  it  has  relighted  to  my  great  comfort)  and  have  smoked  out  of  my  head 
the  plan  of  another.  I  wish  I  could  as  easily  get  rid  of  thinking  or  at  least 
the  confusion  of  thought. 

Dec.  7.  Went  to  bed  and  slept  dreamlessly  but  not  refreshingly.  Awoke 
and  up  an  hour  before  being  called  :  but  dawdled  three  hours  in  dressing. 
When  one  subtracts  from  life  infancy  (which  is  vegetation) — sleeping,  eating 
and  swilling — buttoning  and  unbuttoning — how  much  remains  of  downright 
existence  ?     The  summer  of  a  dormouse. 

Redde  [he  generally  spells  "  read  "  like  this]  the  papers  and  tea-ed  and  soda 
watered  and  found  that  the  fire  was  badly  hghted.  Lord  Glenbervie  wante 
me  to  go  to  Brighton — um  ! 

On  December  16  there  is  a  very  short  entry : 

Much  done  but  nothing  to  record.  It  is  quite  enough  to  set  down  my 
thoughts — my  actions  will  rarely  bear  retrospection. 

On  January  16  we  have  Byron  on  marriage : 

A  wife  would  be  my  salvation.  .  .  .  That  she  won't  love  me  is  very 
probable  nor  shall  I  love  her.  But  on  my  system  and  the  modern  system  in 
general  that  don't  signify.  The  business  (if  it  came  to  business)  would  pro- 
bably be  arranged  between  papa  and  me.  She  would  have  her  own  way.  I 
am  good  humoiu-ed  to  women  and  docile  :  and  if  I  did  not  fall  in  love  with  her 
which  I  should  try  to  prevent  we  should  be  a  very  comfortable  couple.  As  to 
conduct  that  she  must  look  to.  But  if  I  love  I  shall  be  jealous — and  for  that 
reason  I  will  not  be  in  love.  ...  I  do  fear  my  temper  would  lead  me  into 
some  of  our  oriental  tricks  of  vengeance  or  at  any  rate  into  a  summary  appeal 
to  the  court  of  twelve  paces.  So  '  I'll  none  on't  '  but  e'en  remain  single  and 
solitary  ; — though  I  shotild  like  to  have  somebody  now  and  then  to  yawn  with 
one. 

His  experiment,  when  it  came  to  the  point,  was,  as  we  know, 
peculiarly  unsuccessful.     His  wife  left  him  after  a  year. 

Mter  a  month's  break  he  returns  to  his  journal,  making  three 
entries  on  February  18,  1814  :  one  in  the  morning,  the  second 
at  nine  o'clock,  the  third  at  midnight.  We  will  extract  the 
following  bits : 

Redde  a  little — wrote  notes  and  letters  and  am  alone  which  Locke  says 
is  bad  company.    '  Be  not  solitary,  be  not  idle.'     Um  !  the  idleness  is  trouble- 


268  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

some  but  I  can't  see  so  much  to  regret  in  the  solitude.  The  more  I  see  of 
men  the  less  I  like  them.  If  I  could  but  say  so  of  women  too  all  would 
be  well.  Why  can't  I  ?  I  am  now  six  and  twenty  :  my  passions  have  had 
enough  to  cool  them  :  my  affections  more  than  enough  to  wither  them — and 
yet — and  yet — always  yet  and  but — '  Excellent  well,  you  are  a  fishmonger —  " 
get  thee  to  a  nunnery.'     '  They  fool  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent,'  ' 

Napoleon  !    this  week  will  decide  his  fate.     All  seems  against  him  but  I 
believe  and  hope  he  will  win — at  least  beat  back  the  invaders.     What  right  i 
have  we  to  prescribe  sovereigns  to  France  ?     Oh  for  a  republic  !     [there  is  i 
much  more  about  his  admiration  for  Napoleon]     I  wonder  how  the  deuce  > 
anybody  could  make  such  a  world  :   for  what  purpose  dandies,  for  instance, 
were  ordained — and  kings — and  fellows  of  colleges — and  women  of  '  a  certain  ,. 
age  ' — and  many  men  of  any  age — and  myself,  most  of  all. 


On  February  27  we  get  a  reference  to  a  woman  friend  of  Byron's 
who  is  jDerhaps  not  so  famous  as  many  of  the  others  : 

I  always  feel  in  better  humour  with  myself  and  everything  else  if  there  is 
a  woman  within  ken.  Even  Mrs.  Mule  my  fire  lighter — ^the  most  ancient  and 
withered  of  her  kind — always  makes  me  laugh — no  difficult  task  when  I 
am  i'  the  vein. 

Mrs.  Mule,  with  her  gaunt  and  witch-Hke  appearance,  acted  as 
a  sort  of  scarecrow  to  Byron's  visitors.  She  followed  him  from 
Bennett  Street  to  the  Albany  and  was  actually  found  in  his 
estabUshment  in  Piccadilly  after  he  married.  Byron's  only 
reply  to  inquiries  about  her  was  "  The  poor  old  devil  was  so 
kind  to  me." 

On  March  17  and  other  dates  we  get  a  note  of  one  of  the  forms 
of  exercise  he  took  : 

I  have  been  sparring  with  Jackson  for  exercise  this  morning  ;  and  mean  to 
continue  and  renew  my  acquaintance  with  the  muffles. 

The  following  on  the  career  of  any  son  he  may  have  reminds 
one  of  Haydon  : 

If  I  have  a  wife  and  that  wife  has  a  son — by  anybody — I  will  bring  up  mine 
heir  in  a  most  anti -poetical  way — make  him  a  lawyer  or  a  pirate — or  anything. 
But  if  he  writes  too  I  shall  be  sure  he  is  none  of  mine  and  cut  him  off  with  a 
Bank  token. 

Towards  the  end  we  get  ejaculations  such  as  "  Tired,  jaded, 
selfish  and  supine — must  go  to  bed,"  "  my  heart  begins  to  eat 
itself  again."  Napoleon's  abdication  upsets  him.  On  April 
10; 

To-day  I  have  boxed  one  horn* — written  an  ode  to  Napoleon  Boanaparte —  | 
copied  it — eaten  six  biscuits — drunk  four  bottles  of  soda  water — redde  away 
the  rest  of  my  time. 


BYRON  269 

And  April  19  is  the  last  entry  : 

There  is  ice  at  both  poles,  north  and  south — all  extremes  are  the  same — 
misery  belongs  to  the  highest  and  the  beggar  when  tmsixpenced  and  unthroned. 
There  is  to  be  sure  a  damned  insipid  meditmi — an  equinoctial  line — no  one 
knows  where  except  upon  maps  and  measurements. 

And  all  oiir  yesterdays  have  lighted 
The  way  to  dusty  death. 

I  will  keep  no  further  journal  of  that  same  hesternal  torchlight  and  to  prevent 
me  from  retm'ning  like  a  dog  to  the  vomit  of  memory,  I  tear  out  the  remaining 
leaves  of  this  voltmie  and  write,  in  Ipecacuanha — '  that  the  Bourbons  are 
restored  ! ! ! '  '  Hang  up  philosophy.'  To  be  sure  I  have  long  despised  myself 
and  man  but  I  never  spat  in  the  face  of  my  species  before — '  O  fool  !  I  shall 
go  mad  !  ' 

Byron's  second  attempt  at  keeping  a  diary  was  during  a  tour 
in  the  Bernese  Alps  in  September,  1816.  Needless  to  say  it  is  not 
a  dull  guide-book  account  of  what  he  saw  and  did. 

He  sent  it  to  his  sister.  The  first  he  had  given  to  Thomas 
Moore.  His  third  attempt  only  lasted  six  weeks  in  1820  when  he 
was  in  Ravenna.  "  A  sudden  thought  strikes  me,"  he  begins. 
"  Let  me  begin  a  Journal  once  more."  He  keeps  it  very  regu- 
larly and  wliile  it  is  just  as  spontaneous  as  his  first  attempt,  it  has 
not  quite  the  same  reckless  tone.  He  notes  his  reading  and  writing 
and  his  depressions,  but  he  is  chiefly  occupied  with  the  intrigues 
of  the  revolutionary  movement  and  politics.  His  enthusiasm 
is  unbounded,  though  the  leaders  of  the  movement  are  a  dis- 
appointing lot. 

It  is  not  one  man,  nor  a  million  but  the  spirit  of  liberty  which  must  be 
spread.  The  waves  which  dash  upon  the  shore  are,  one  by  one,  broken  but 
yet  the  ocean  conquers  nevertheless. 

He  is  at  work  on  "  Sardanapalus  "  and  reports  about  the  progress 
of  it. 

Wrote  the  opening  hnes  of  the  intended  tragedy  of  Sardanapalus.  Rode 
out  sonae  miles  into  the  forest.  Misty  and  rainy — returned — dined — wrote 
some  more  of  my  tragedy.  Read  Diodorus  Siculus — turned  over  Seneca 
and  some  other  books.  Wrote  some  more  of  the  tragedy.  Took  a  glass  of 
grog.  After  having  ridden  hard  in  rainy  weather  and  scribbled  and  scribbled 
again,  the  spirits  (at  least  mine)  need  a  little  exhilaration  and  I  don't  like 
laudanum  now  as  I  used  to  do.  So  I  have  mixed  a  glass  of  strong  waters  and 
single  waters  which  I  shall  now  proceed  to  empty.  Therefore  and  thereunto 
I  conclude  this  day's  diary. 

He    makes  notes    about    the  books  he  reads    and    expresses 


270  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

more  than  once  his  great  admiration  for  Sir  Walter  Scott :  "  won- 
derful man — ^I  long  to  get  drunk  with  him."     Most  of  the  entries| 
are  long,  but  here  is  a  complete  short  one  : 

Jan.  16.  Read — wrote — fired  pistols — rettimed — ^wrote — visited — heard 
music — talked  nonsense — and  went  home.  Wrote  part  of  a  Tragedy — ad- 
vanced in  Act  I  with  "  all  deliberate  speed."  Bought  a  blanket.  The  weather 
is  still  muggy  as  a  London  May — mist,  mizzle,  the  air  replete  with  Scotticisms 
which  though  fine  in  the  descriptions  of  Ossian,  are  somewhat  tiresome  in 
real,  prosaic  perspective.     Politics  still  mysterious. 

On  the  eve  of  his  birthday  he  writes  : 

To-morrow  is  my  birthday — that  is  to  say  at  twelve  o'clock  midnight 
i.e.  in  twelve  minutes  I  shall  have  completed  thirty  and  three  years  of  age  !  !- 
and  I  go  to  my  bed  with  a  heaviness  of  heart  at  having  lived  so  long  and  to  so 
little  purpose. 

It  is  three  minutes  past  twelve.  '  'Tis  the  middle  of  the  night  by  the  castle 
clock  '  and  I  am  now  thirty  three  ! 

Eheu  fugaces,  Posthume,  Posthume, 

Labuntur  anni  ; — 

but  I  don't  regret  them  so  much  for  what  I  have  done  as  for  what  I  might  have 
done. 

Then  follows  a  sort  of  comic  epitaph  on  the  year  that  has 
passed. 

Of  course  he  becomes  deeply  involved  in  the  revolutionary 
activities.     He  writes  on  February  18  : 

To-day  I  have  had  no  communication  with  my  Carbonari  croniea  ;  but  in 
the  meantime  my  lower  apartments  are  full  of  their  bayonets,  fusils,  cart- 
ridges and  what  not.  I  suppose  they  consider  me  as  a  dep6t,  to  be  sacrificed, 
in  case  of  accidents.  It  is  no  great  matter,  supposing  that  Italy  could  be 
liberated,  who  or  what  is  sacrificed.  It  is  a  grand  object — the  very  poetry  of 
politics.     Only  think — a  free  Italy  !  !  1 

In  addition  to  arms  and  ammunition  in  his  villa  he  apparently 
had  birds,  for  we  find  the  remark  :  "  Beat  the  crow  for  steahng 
the  falcon's  victuals."  He  becomes  more  disinchned  to  write  in 
the  diary.     On  February  25  he  says  : 

Came  home — ^my  head  aches — plenty  of  news  but  too  tiresome  to  set  down. 
I  have  neither  read  nor  written  nor  thought  but  led  a  purely  animal  life  all 
day.     I  mean  to  try  a  page  or  two  before  I  go  to  bed. 

On  February  27  he  writes  one  more  entry  in  another  book.  He 
is  at  work  on  "  Don  Juan, "  he  quotes  a  stanza  from  Gray's  "  Elegy," 
and  ends  up  with  a  very  elaborate  description  of  his  indigestion. 


BYRON  271 

As  a  last  quotation  we  will  give  the  melancholy  passage  with 
which  the  poet  ends  his  second  diary  : 

I  am  a  lover  of  nature  and  an  admirer  of  beauty.  I  can  bear  fatigue  and 
welcome  privation  and  have  seen  some  of  the  noblest  scenes  in  the  world. 
But  in  all  this  the  recollection  of  bitterness  and  more  especially  of  recent 
and  more  home  desolation  which  must  accompany  me  through  life  preyed 
upon  me  here  ;  and  neither  the  music  of  the  shepherds,  the  crashing  of  the 
avalanche  nor  the  torrent,  the  mountain,  the  glacier,  the  forest  nor  the  cloud 
have  for  one  moment  lightened  the  weight  upon  my  heart  nor  enabled  me 
to  lose  my  own  wretched  identity  in  the  majesty  and  the  power  and  the 
glory  around  and  above  and  beneath  me. 

If  Byron  had  really  kept  a  diary,  it  would  certainly  have  ranked 
among  the  best  ever  written.  It  was  not  lack  of  egotism  but 
lack  of  regular  method,  an  essential  for  diary  keeping,  which  pre- 
vented him. 


CHARLES   GREVILLE 

ONE  has  only  to  notice  the  number  of  footnote  references  to 
Greville's  Journal  in  any  history  of  the  period  during  which 
he  wrote  in  order  to  realise  the  importance  of  his  record. 
Greville  as  a  commentator  on  contemporary  events  holds  a  unique 
position.  He  wrote  history  as  it  was  in  the  making ;  and  other 
political  and  social  diaries  of  the  nineteenth  century  fade  into 
insignificance  when  compared  with  his  very  full  and  detailed 
chronicle.  As  clerk  of  the  council  under  four  monarchs,  and  a  man 
of  fashion,  he  had  specially  favourable  opportunities  for  collect- 
ing the  materials  he  wanted,  but  he  also  had  the  gift  of  being 
able  to  relate  the  intrigues  and  inner  workings  of  the  machine 
of  government  and  of  society  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  a  reader 
live  in  his  times.  It  is  an  objective  diary,  of  course,  and  has 
not  the  personal  and  psychological  interest  of  a  diary  such  as 
Pepys',  but  it  is  not  dryly  impersonal,  for  he  often  expresses 
his  own  opinions  and  moralises  when  he  feels  inclined. 

Greville  wrote  for  publication.  He  entrusted  the  ninety- 
three  quarto  note-books  to  Henry  Reeve,  with  an  injunction  that 
he  should  "  print  such  portions  of  them  as  might  be  thought  of 
public  interest  whenever  that  could  be  done  without  inconvenience 
to  living  persons." 

In  1865  Mr.  Reeve  published  a  few  extracts  from  the  diaries 
from  1814  to  1827.  But  in  1875  the  pubhcation  of  the  full  series 
began  with  the  Journals  of  the  reigns  of  George  IV  and  William 
IV.  Five  large  editions  were  sold  in  the  first  year,  but  some 
passages  caused  extreme  offence  and  had  to  be  suppressed.  In 
1885  and  1887  the  second  and  third  series  of  the  volumes  were 
published. 

Greville's  method  was  not  merely  to  register  public  events, 
but  to  relate  the  inner  causes  which  led  up  to  them.  It  is  all 
very  personal.  His  character  sketches  are  well  drawn  and  spon- 
taneously written  at  the  moment.  They  are  racy  but  often 
rather  superficial,  and  his  political  survey  does  not  contain  any 
profound  analysis  of  motives  and  principles.     At  times  there  is 

272 


CHARLES  GREVILLE  273 

great  elaboration  of  circumstances  which  seemed  important 
when  written  but  which  have  ceased  to  have  any  sort  of  interest 
to-day.  Greville,  however,  gives  the  most  graphic  contem- 
porary account  of  the  relationships  and  intercourse  between  the 
members  of  the  governing  class  in  the  country  that  has  ever  been 
produced.  His  work  differs  from  other  contemporary  histories 
Mke  Clarendon's  or  Wraxall's  memoirs  because  he  adopted  the 
regular  diary  form  and  gave  the  fresh  impression  of  the  day. 
In  communicating  the  manuscript  to  a  friend  he  remarks  :  "  You 
will  find  public  characters  freely,  flippantly  perhaps  and  fre- 
quently very  severely  dealt  with ;  in  some  cases  you  will  be  sur- 
prised to  see  my  opinions  of  certain  men,  some  of  whom,  in  many 
respects,  I  may  perhaps  think  differently  of  now,"  A  passing 
judgment  may  not  have  the  same  value  as  a  considered  survey 
after  the  lapse  of  years,  but  it  has  value  of  its  own,  as  an  opinion 
of  the  moment  and  the  ease  and  felicity  of  expression  in  the  case 
of  Greville  bring  the  events  and  persons  described  very  close  to 
one. 

It  will  be  unnecessary  to  quote  very  much  from  the  well- 
known   passages   in   the   eight   printed   volumes.     Although   the 
[  diary  consists  mainly  of  a  narrative  of  political  and  public  events, 
^  the  subjective  personal  element  is  present  and  the  man  himself 
can  be  discovered  by  sometliing  more  than  his  style  as  a  diarist 
historian. 

Greville  was  a  handsome  and  accomplished  man  of  fashion 
who  served  as  clerk  of  the  council  for  nearly  forty  years.  He  was 
,  friends  with  many  pubhc  men  and  was  consulted  by  them,  and 
he  was  an  active  member  of  the  Turf.  His  contemporaries  would 
no  doubt  have  been  very  much  surprised  had  they  known  with 
what  fullness  and  freedom,  and  we  may  add  with  what  literary 
talent,  he  was  describing  them  and  their  doings.  He  had  no 
great  pretensions  with  regard  to  the  record  he  was  making.  In 
one  entry  he  says  : 

As  I  don't  write  history  I  omit  to  note  such  facts  as  are  recorded  in  the 
newspapers  and  merely  mention  the  odd  things  I  pick  up  which  are  not 
generally  known  and  which  may  hereafter  throw  some  light  on  those  which 
are. 

He  is  overcome,  too,  occasionally  by  the  diarist's  misgiving  as 
to  whether  it  is  worth  while  going  on  with  his  record,  and  he 
analyses  the  whole  principle  of  diary  keeping  more  fully  perhaps 
than  any  other  diarist. 

In  1843  he  WTites  : 

18 


274  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  have  serious  thoughts  of  giving  up  this  journal  altogether  and  yet  I  am 
reluctant  to  do  so  for  it  has  been  for  many  years  an  occasional  and  sometimes 
a  constant  and  brisk  amusement  to  me  but  I  feel  that  it  is  neither  one  thing 
nor  another  and  not  worth  the  trouble  of  continuing.  I  have  no  incUnation 
like  some  diarists  to  put  down  day  by  day  all  the  trifles  they  see,  hear  or  do. 
...  I  am  reluctant  to  spoil  a  quantity  of  paper  with  mere  trash  which  what- 
ever accident  may  make  it  or  what  value  it  may  possibly  acquire  by  age  is 
too  trivial  now  to  set  down  without  a  feeling  of  mixed  shame  and  disgust. 

His  gossip — ^and  there  is  a  good  deal  of  it — ^is  political.  He 
says  : 

I  hardly  ever  record  the  scandalous  stories  of  the  day  miless  they  relate  to 
characters  or  events  but  what  relates  to  public  men  is  different  from  the  loves 
and  friendsMps  of  the  idiots  of  society. 

It  is  interesting  to  read  his  opinion  on  other  diaries  and  diarists. 
He  sees  the  manuscript  of  Windham's  diary,  and  notes  how  it 
abounds  with  expressions  of  self-reproach.  He  adopts  Wind- 
ham's practice  of  only  writing  on  one  side  of  the  page.  In  1838 
for  a  moment  he  considers  making  his  diary  more  personal,  but 
he  says  : 

I  always  contemplate  the  possibility  that  hereafter  my  joimial  will  be  read 
by  the  public  always  greedy  of  such  things  and  I  regard  with  alarm  and  dishke 
the  notion  of  its  containing  a  heap  of  twaddle  and  trash  concerning  matters 
appertaining  to  myself  which  nobody  else  will  care  three  straws  about. 

But  he  acknowledges  that  a  strong  stimulus  to  keep  such  a 
diary  proceeds  from  having  read  Scott's  and  Byron's.  He  is 
mercilessly  critical  of  Fanny  Burney's  diary.  While  he  pays 
a  tribute  to  her  talent  for  recording  conversations,  and  acknow- 
ledges that  there  are  interesting  passages,  he  says  : 

They  are  overlaid  by  an  enormous  quantity  of  trash  and  twaddle  and  there 
is  a  continuous  stream  of  mawkish  sentimentality,  loyalty,  devotion,  sensi- 
bility and  a  display  of  feelings  and  virtues  which  are  very  provoking. 

Occasionally  he  moraUses,  and  unexpectedly  he  actually  in- 
dulges Mke  a  true  diarist  in  self-disparagement.  This  is  interest- 
ing because  he  was  definitely  writing  an  liistorical  narrative  for 
pubhcation,  and  it  shows  how  sooner  or  later  a  regular  diary 
writer  must  notice  himself.  After  an  evening  in  1834  at  Holland 
House,  where  "  a  vast  depression  came  over  my  spirits,"  he  re- 
flects at  length  on  his  ignorance  : 

He  who  wastes  his  early  years  in  horse  racing  and  all  sorts  of  idleness 
figuring  away  among  the  dissolute  and  the  foolish  must  be  content  to  play  an 
inferior  part  among  the  learned  and  the  wise.  .  .  .  Reflections  of  this  sort 


CHARLES  GREVILLE  275 

make  me  very  uncomfortable  and  I  am  ready  to  cry  with  vexation  when  I 
think  of  ray  mispent  life.  If  I  was  insensible  to  a  higher  order  of  merit  and 
indifferent  to  a  nobler  kind  of  praise,  I  should  be  happier  far  ;  but  to  be 
tormented  with  the  sentiment  of  an  honourable  ambition  and  with  the  aspira- 
tions after  better  things  and  at  the  same  time  so  sunk  in  sloth  and  bad  habits 
as  to  be  incapable  of  exertions  without  which  their  objects  are  unattainable  is 
of  all  conditions  the  worst. 

There  is  a  sincerity  in  this  which  makes  us  prefer  it  to  Thoresby's 
groanings  of  the  soul.  This  is  not  an  isolated  instance ;  he  returns 
to  it  several  times: 

When  I  see  what  other  men  have  done,  how  they  have  read  and  thought,  a 
sort  of  despair  comes  over  me,  a  deep  and  bitter  sensation  of  regret  '  for  time 
mispent  and  talents  misapplied  '  not  the  less  bitter  from  being  coupled  with  a 
hopelessness  of  remedial  industry  and  of  doing  better  things. 

Read  Macintosh's  Life  in  the  carriage  which  made  me  di'eadfully  disgusted 
with  my  racing  metier.     What  a  life  as  compared  with  mine  ! 

Yet  such  are  the  caprices  of  fortune  that  for  one  person  who 
has  heard  of  or  read  a  line  of  Macintosh  to-day  there  are  hundreds 
who  have  heard  of  and  read  extracts  from  Greville. 

His  devotion  to  the  Turf  does  not  prevent  him  from  inveighing 
against  betting  and  gambling  and  racing  with  great  violence, 
and,  Uke  so  many  diarists,  the  discharge  of  passionate  self-con- 
demnation does  not  prevent  him  from  continuing  in  exactly  the 
same  way : 

1830.  A  month  nearly  since  I  have  written  a  line ;  always  racing  and 
always  idleness. 

1834.  The  degrading  nature  of  the  occupation  mixing  with  the  lowest  of 
mankind  and  absorbed  in  the  business  for  the  sole  purpose  of  getting  money, 
the  consciousness  of  a  sort  of  degradation  of  intellect,  the  conviction  of  the 
deteriorating  effects  upon  both  the  feelings  and  the  understanding  which  are 
produced,  the  sort  of  dram  drinking  excitement  of  it — all  these  things  and  these 
thoughts  torment  me  and  often  turn  my  pleasure  into  pain. 

1837.  One  day  I  resolve  to  extricate  myself  entirely  from  the  whole 
concern  to  sell  all  my  horses  and  pursue  other  occupations  and  objects  of 
interest  and  then  these  resolutions  wax  faint  and  I  again  find  myself  buying 
fresh  animals  entering  into  fresh  speciilations  and  just  as  deeply  engaged  as 
ever. 

Not  till  1854  does  he  make  up  his  mind  to  give  up  racing,  and 
by  that  time  he  seems  to  be  tired  of  poUtics  too. 

I  am  every  day  more  confirmed  in  my  resolution  to  get  rid  of  my  race 
horses.  .  .  .  The  two  objects  I  now  have  in  view  are  this  and  to  get  out  of  my 
office.     I  want  to  be  independent  and  be  able  to  go  where  and  do  what  I  like 


276  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

for  the  short  remainder  of  my  life.  .  .  .  Of  poUtics  I  am  heartily  sick  and  can 
take  but  little  interest  in  either  governments  or  the  individuals  who  compose 
them. 

Finally,  in  1855,  we  have  the  following  entry : 

All  last  week  at  Newmarket  and  probably  very  nearly  for  the  last  time  as 
an  owner  of  race  horses  for  I  have  now  got  rid  of  them  all  and  am  almost  ofi 
the  turf  after  being  on  it  more  or  less  for  about  forty  years. 

On  his  birthday  he  sometimes  breaks  into  moralising : 

1838.  How  we  wince  at  our  reflections  and  still  go  on  in  the  same  courses  ! 
how  we  resolve  and  break  our  resolutions  !  It  is  a  common  error  to  wish  we 
could  recall  the  past  and  be  yotmg  again  and  swear  what  things  we  would  do 
if  another  opportunity  was  offered  us.     All  vanity,  folly  and  falsehood. 

1847.  My  birthday,  a  day  of  no  joy  to  me  which  I  always  gladly  hasten 
over.  There  is  no  pleasure  in  reaching  one' s  fifty  third  year  and  in  a  retrospect 
fill!  of  shame  and  a  prospect  without  hope  ;  for  shameful  it  is  to  have  wasted 
one's  faculties  and  to  have  consumed  in  idleness  and  frivolous  if  not  mischie- 
vous, pleasures  that  time  which  if  well  employed  might  have  produced  good 
fruit  full  of  honour  and  of  real  solid  permanent  satisfaction.  And  what  is 
there  to  look  forward  to  at  my  time  of  life  ?  Nothing  but  increasing  infirmities 
and  the  privations  and  distresses  which  they  will  occasion. 

This  side  of  Greville's  Journal  is  little  known  because  so  much  i 
material  is  found  by  historians  in  his  descriptions  and  comments  i 
on  pubhc  affairs,  but  it  is  inte?esting  if  we  are  taking  into  account 
the  diarist  as  well  as  his  diary ;  and  the  opportunity  allowed  us  i 
of  discovering  something  of  the  personality  of  the  author  makes 
us  enjoy  all  the  more  his  views  and  impressions  of  public  affairs. 
The  note  of  depression  and  self-blame  coming  from  a  man  whoi 
writes  comparatively  httle  of  his  own  private  life  has  a  perfectly 
genuine  ring  about  it,  but  it  only  occurs  in  the  earher  years.  He 
often  mentions  his  health,  specially  his  gout  when  it  prevents 
him  from  getting  about,  and  he  notes  his  gains  or  losses  in  racing 
from  time  to  time.  The  entries  are  quite  irregular,  as  he  writes 
nothing  unless  he  has  gathered  material  with  regard  to  parlia- 
mentary or  foreign  affairs.  He  was  personally  acquainted  with 
most  of  the  prominent  men  and  women  of  the  day,  and  he  is 
therefore  able  to  get  his  information  from  the  fountain  head. 

We  will  make  a  few  selections  from  his  character  sketches  as 
examples  of  his  writing  : 

{WiUiam  IV)  The  King  has  been  to  Woolwich,  inspecting  the  artillery,  to 
whom  he  gave  a  dinner,  with  toasts  and  hip,  hip,  hurrahing,  and  three  times 
three,  himself  giving  the  time.  I  tremble  for  him  ;  at  present  he  is  only  a 
moimtebank  but  he  bids  fair  to  be  a  maniac. 


CHARLES   GREVILLE  277 

After  diiuier  he  made  a  number  of  speeches,  so  ridiculous  and  nonsensical, 
beyond  all  belief  but  to  those  who  heard  them,  rambling  from  one  subject  to 
another  repeating  the  same  thing  over  and  over  again  and  altogether  such  a 
mass  of  confusion,  trash,  and  imbecility  as  made  one  blush  and  laugh  at  the 
same  time. 

The  other  day  he  gave  a  dinner  to  one  of  the  regiments  at  Windsor  and  as 
usual  he  made  a  parcel  of  foohsh  speeches  in  one  of  which  after  descanting  upon 
their  exploits  in  Spain  against  the  French,  he  went  on  :  "  Talking  of  France, 
I  must  say  that  whether  at  peace  or  at  war  with  that  country  I  shall  always 
consider  her  as  one  natural  enemy  and  whoever  may  be  her  King  or  ruler  I 
shall  keep  a  watcMul  eye  for  the  purpose  of  repressing  her  ambitious  encroach- 
ments." If  he  was  not  such  an  ass  that  nobody  does  anything  but  laugh  at 
what  he  says,  this  wovild  be  very  important.  Such  as  he  is,  it  is  nothing. 
'  What  can  you  expect '  (as  I  forget  who  said)  '  from  a  man  with  a  head  like 
a  pine  apple.'     His  head  is  just  of  that  shape. 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  anything  more  irksome  for  a  Government  beset 
with  difficulties  like  this  than  to  have  to  discuss  the  various  details  of  their 
measures  with  a  silly  bustling  old  fellow  who  cannot  possibly  comprehend  the 
scope  and  bearing  of  anything. 

With  regard  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  his  estimates  vary  from 
time  to  time,  but  from  the  political  point  of  view  he  is  very 
critical  : 

I  am  by  no  means  easy  as  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  sufficiency  to  meet 
such  difficulties  ;  the  habits  of  his  mind  are  not  those  of  patient  investigation, 
profoiuid  knowledge  of  human  natm-e  and  cool  discriminating  sagacity.  He 
is  exceedingly  quick  of  apprehension  but  deceived  by  his  own  quickness  into 
thinking  he  knows  more  than  he  does.  He  has  amazmg  confidence  in  himself 
which  is  fostered  by  the  deference  of  those  aroimd  him  and  the  long  experience 
of  his  military  successes.  He  is  upon  ordinary  occasions  right-headed  and 
sensible  but  he  is  beset  by  weaknesses  and  passions  which  must  and  continually 
do,  blind  his  judgment. 

This  was  written  in  1831.  Seven  years  later  he  appends  a  note 
retracting  having  said  he  was  ever  a  little  man,  but  otherwise 
confirming  his  opinion.  On  Wellington's  death  he  sums  up  his 
character  at  some  length. 

About  Macaulay  he  writes  a  great  deal,  critically  and  un- 
favourably at  first,  and  afterwards,  when  he  gets  to  know  him, 
much  more  sympathetically.  He  gives  a  very  amusing  descrip- 
tion of  his  first  meeting  him  at  Holland  House  in  1832  without 
knowing  who  he  was.  He  sits  next  to  "  a  common  looking  man 
in  black,"  whom  he  sets  down  "for  a  dull  fellow."  He  is  so 
overcome  when  he  discovers  who  it  is  that  "  perspiration  burst 
from  every  pore  of  my  face."     He  is  unfavourably  impressed  : 

Not  a  ray  of  intellect  beams  from  his  countenance  ;  a  Imnp  of  more  ordinary 
clay  never  enclosed  a  powerful  mind  and  lively  imagination. 


278  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Later  again  he  writes  : 

His  figure,  face,  voice,  manner  are  all  bad  ;  he  astonishes  and  instructs,  he 
sometimes  entertains,  seldom  amuses,  and  still  seldomer  pleases.  He  wants 
variety,  elasticity,  gracefulness  ;  his  is  a  roaring  torrent,  and  not  a  meandering 
stream  of  talk. 

Macaulay  indeed  is  a  great  talker  and  pours  forth  floods  of  knowledge  on 
all  subjects  ;  but  the  gracefulness,  lightness,  and  variety  are  wanting  in  his 
talk  which  are  so  conspicuous  in  his  writings  ;  there  is  not  enough  of  alloy  in 
the  metal  of  his  conversation  ;  it  is  too  didactic,  it  is  all  too  good  and  not 
sufficiently  flexible,  plastic,  and  diversified  for  general  society. 

But  in  later  years  he  refers  to  him  as  "an  unrivalled  and  de- 
lightful talker."  In  1841  he  describes  a  dinner  at  Holland  House 
in  which  he  gives  the  most  entertaining  account  of  Macaulay's 
overpowering  knowledge.  Whatever  subject  of  conversation 
arose,  from  the  "  Fathers  of  the  Church  "  to  "  dolls,"  Macaulay 
capped  everyone  else  and  exhibited  special  technical  knowledge. 
At  a  country  house  party  where  Macaulay,  Rogers  and  many 
others  are  present,  Greville  remarks  :  "  Rogers  will  revive  to- 
morrow when  Macaulay  goes."  On  Macaulay's  death  Greville 
writes  a  rather  exaggerated  eulogy  of  his  history. 

It  is  the  colour  and  personal  opinion  which  Greville  puts  into 
his  entries  that  make  his  record  so  readable.  The  parliamentary 
crises  are  developed  with  great  skill  because  of  liis  close  contact 
with  the  chief  actors.  His  account  of  the  passing  of  the  Reform 
Bill  is  a  specially  valuable  contribution  to  liistory.  He  follows 
the  foreign  situation  and  the  developments  of  international, 
pohcy  with  particular  attention.  The  revolutions  of  1848  fill 
him  with  horror ;  he  attributes  it  all  to  "  democracy  and  phil- ' 
anthropy "  which,  he  writes,  "  leave  behind  them — and  all 
Europe  exhibits  the  result — a  mass  of  ruin,  terror  and  despair." 
We  find  him  in  1853  making  a  very  shrewd  diagnosis  of  future 
events  when  he  says,  "  if  ever  France  finds  it  her  interest  to  go 
to  war  Italy  will  be  her  mark." 

His  parhamentary  record  is  the  fullest  part  of  his  chronicle. 
People  are  rather  apt  to  beheve  that  in  the  good  old  days  there 
was  a  dignity  and  decorum  about  our  parliamentarians  the 
absence  of  which  they  deplore  to-day.  When,  however,  we  read 
the  following,  we  need  not  be  greatly  concerned  about  the  de->' 
terioration  in  parhamentary  manners :  I 

1846.  The  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons  came  to  a  close  at  last  wound 
up  by  a  speech  of  Disraeli's,  very  clever,  in  which  he  hacked  and  mangled 
Peel  with  the  most  unsparing  severity  and  positively  tortured  his  victim.     It 


CHARLES   GREVILLE  279 

was  a  miserable  and  degrading  spectacle.  The  whole  mass  of  the  protec- 
tionists cheered  him  with  vociferous  delight  making  the  roof  ring  again  ; 
and  when  Peel  spoke  they  screamed  and  hooted  at  him  in  the  most  brutal 
manner.  When  he  vindicated  himself  and  talked  of  honour  and  conscience 
they  assailed  him  with  shouts  of  derision  and  gestures  of  contempt. 

There  are,  of  course,  many  references  to  Queen  Victoria  too 
well  known  to  be  quoted  here.  The  Queen  was  very  indignant 
when  the  first  instalment  of  the  journal  was  published.  The 
hght  thrown  on  her  uncles  was  a  little  too  bright. 

Greville  only  makes  very  occasional  references  to  anything 
but  pubhc  affairs.  He  gives  an  account  of  an  early  railway 
journey  and  has  a  very  appreciative  word  to  say  about  the  intro- 
duction of  chloroform.  There  are,  however,  portions  of  his  journal 
which  are  devoted  to  his  travels  in  Italy  and  Germany.  His 
descriptions,  written  with  spirit  and  with  a  seeing  eye,  are  a  good 
deal  above  the  average  diarist's  travel  notes. 

As  time  goes  on  he  becomes  more  occupied  with  literary  pur- 
suits and  less  interested  in  politics.  He  resigns  his  office  in  1859 
at  the  age  of  65,  but  notes  the  fact  with  hardly  any  comment. 

On  November  13,  1860,  after  having  neglected  to  write  for  three 
months,  he  deliberately  concludes  his  journal : 

I  take  my  pen  in  hand  to  record  my  determination  to  bring  this  journal 
(which  is  no  journal  at  all)  to  an  end. 

The  reason  he  assigns  is  that  he  is  out  of  touch  with  public 
affairs  and  only  hears  what  is  known  to  all  the  world. 

The  complete  accuracy  of  Greville's  diary  was  by  no  means 
universally  accepted.  This  is  shown  by  the  famous  comment 
made  on  it : 

'      For  fifty  years  he  listened  at  the  door, 
He  heard  some  secrets  and  invented  more. 


WILLIAM  COBBETT 

TO  include  a  book  like  Cobbett's  Rural  Rides  among 
diaries  may  at  first  be  thought  to  be  stretching  the  meaning 
of  the  word  "  diary  "  beyond  its  legitimate  limits.  But 
on  closer  consideration  it  will  be  found  that  the  Rural  Rides  ful- 
fills very  exactly  the  necessary  conditions  which  constitute  diary 
writing.  The  book  is  essentially  a  joiirnal  the  entries  of  which 
are  freshly  written  on  the  actual  day,  and  the  fact  that  it  con- 
tains much  else  than  a  bare  record  of  the  events  of  each  day  in 
no  way  invalidates  its  character  as  a  diary. 

As  we  are  only  indirectly  concerned  with  the  careers  of  our 
diarists,  no  more  than  a  brief  reminder  of  Cobbett's  eventful 
life  need  be  given.  Grandson  of  a  farm  labourer  and  son  of  a 
small  farmer,  he  was  born  at  Farnham  in  1766.  He  was  employed 
as  a  boy  in  the  fields,  and  received  little  education  except  what 
he  gave  himself.  "  Born  in  a  farm-house  bred  up  at  the  plough 
tail  with  a  smock  frock  on  my  back,"  as  he  describes  himself. 
Being  of  an  adventurous  disposition  he  soon  left  home  and  be- 
came successively  an  attorney's  clerk,  a  soldier  in  a  regiment 
quartered  at  St.  John's,  New  Brunswick,  a  student  in  France, 
a  teacher  of  English  in  Wilmington,  Delaware,  and  a  bookseller 
in  Philadelphia.  He  then  began  writing  pamphlets  and  books 
and  editing  newspapers.  His  manner  and  method  constantly 
brought  him  into  trouble,  and  on  his  return  to  England  he  was, 
as  editor  of  the  Weekly  Political  Register,  more  than  once  brought 
to  trial  and  fined.  In  1809  his  bitter  comments  on  the  flogging 
of  some  militiamen  at  Ely,  which  had  been  carried  out  with  the 
aid  of  a  body  of  German  troops,  brought  down  on  him  the  mon- 
strous sentence  of  two  years'  imprisonment  with  a  fine  of  £1,000. 
In  1830  he  entered  Parhament  as  member  for  Oldham.  His 
speeches  were  very  unconventional  and  he  was  an  effective 
debater,  though  Greville  in  his  diary  speaks  disparagingly  of  his 
efforts.  He  commenced  his  first  speech  with  the  remark :  "  It 
appears  to  me  that  since  I  have  been  sitting  here,  I  have  heard 
a  great  deal  of  vain  and  unprofitable  conversation."     A  fellow- 

280 


WILLIAM  COBBETT  281 

member  describes  him  thus  :  "  An  elderly,  respectable-looking, 
red-faced  gentleman,  in  a  dust-coloured  coat  and  drab  breeches 
with  gaiters,  tall  and  strongly  built  with  sharp  eyes,  a  round  and 
ruddy  countenance,  smallish  features  and  a  peculiarly  cynical 
mouth." 

The  prevailing  idea  which  seemed  to  pervade  all  Cobbett's 
views  was  a  hatred  of  tyranny  and  a  sympathy  with  the  minority. 
The  agricultural  labourer  was  the  class  of  the  community  in 
which  he  was  the  most  interested  and  whose  cause  he  specially 
espoused.  A  master  of  invective  and  sarcasm,  his  pen  served 
him  best  in  showing  up  scandals  and  attacking  his  opponents. 
In  his  private  life  he  was  charmingly  domestic  and  displayed 
great  kindliness.  He  died  in  1835.  As  well  as  pamphlets  and 
newspaper  articles,  he  turned  out  a  large  number  of  books.  His 
rural  rides  took  place  between  1821  and  1832.  The  object  in 
view  was  the  investigation  on  the  spot  of  the  state  of  agriculture, 
and  his  journal  was  specifically  written  for  publication.  The 
freshly-gathered  experiences,  the  lucidity  and  vigour  of  the  style 
and  the  interesting  reflection  of  his  personality  which  appears  in  the 
entries,  make  the  Rural  Rides  stand  out  as  the  masterpiece  of 
Cobbett's  writing  and  a  book  unique  of  its  kind  in  English  literature. 

In  1821  he  left  London  and  rode  through  Bucks,  Hants,  Wilts, 
Gloucester  and  Hereford,  returning  by  way  of  Oxford,  and  later 
in  the  year  he  went  into  Kent  and  through  Norfolk  and  Suffolk. 

In  1822  he  had  three  trips  which  included  Hertford,  Bucking-, 
ham  and  Huntingdon,  as  well  as  the  south-eastern  counties. 
Both  in  1823  and  1825  Sussex,  Surrey  and  Hants  were  again 
visited ;  Wiltshire,  Somerset  and  Gloucester  in  the  following 
year.  1829  saw  him  in  Hertfordshire  and  later  in  Norfolk  and 
Suffolk,  and  during  the  last  tour  in  1832,  which  was  more  purely 
political  in  its  character,  he  was  in  Northumberland  and  Durham. 

He  seldom  writes  his  experiences  of  the  day,  which  are  given 
minutely  in  diary  form,  without  going  off  into  a  diatribe  against 
certain  statesmen  and  fulminating  against  poUtical  scandals. 

It  is  impossible,  of  course,  to  follow  liim  on  his  journeys  and  to 
note  the  daily  incidents,  nor  can  anything  like  an  adequate  review 
of  his  conclusions  be  given  by  extracts.  Indeed,  to  break  into  one 
of  Cobbett's  paragraphs  spoils  very  considerably  the  swing  and 
zest  of  his  writing.  The  country  as  he  describes  it  daily  stretches 
out  before  his  readers  with  intense  reality,  not  only  because 
Cobbett  as  a  son  of  the  soil  knows  how  to  bring  its  sights  and 
sounds  and  breath  before  us,  but  because  he  sat  down  then  and 
there  and  wrote  away  after  his  ride,  however  many  miles  he  had 


282  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

covered.     After  a  rainy  day  one  almost  expects  to  see  the  page 
stained  with  drops. 

I  set  ofi  from  Fifield  this  morning  and  got  here  about  one  o'clock  with  my 
clothes  wet.  While  they  are  drj-ing  and  while  a  mutton  chop  is  getting 
ready  I  sit  down  to  make  some  notes  of  what  I  have  seen  since  I  left  Enford  ; 
but  here  comes  my  dinner  and  I  must  put  off  my  notes  till  I  have  dined. 

Ever  since  the  middle  of  March  I  have  been  trying  remedies  for  the  whooping 
cough  and  have  I  believe  tried  everything  except  riding  wet  to  the  slrin  two 
or  three  hours  amongst  the  clouds  on  the  South  Downs.  .  .  .  This  is  really  a 
soaking  day  thus  far.  I  got  here  at  nine  o'clock.  I  stripped  off  my  coat  and 
put  it  by  the  kitchen  fire.  In  a  parlour  just  eight  feet  square  I  have  another 
fire  and  have  dried  my  shirt  on  my  back.  We  shaU  see  what  this  does  for 
the  whooping  cough. 

I  staid  at  Reigate  yesterday  and  came  to  the  Wen  [this  is  the  way  he  always 
describes  London]  to-day  every  step  of  the  way  in  rain  ;  as  good  a  soaking  as 
any  devotee  of  St  Swithin  ever  vmderwent  for  his  sake.  I  promised  that  I 
would  give  an  account  of  the  effect  which  the  soaking  on  the  South  Downs 
had  upon  the  whooping  cough.  I  do  not  recommend  the  remedy  to  others 
but  this  I  will  say  that  I  had  a  speU  of  the  whooping  cough  the  day  before  I 
got  that  soaking  and  that  I  have  not  had  a  single  spell  since. 

This  is  practically  the  only  mention  of  his  health  in  the  Journal. 
But  we  get  some  insight  into  the  Spartan  habits  which  kept 
him  so  fit,  and  it  comes  as  a  pleasant  rehef  after  the  many 
examples  we  have  had  of  guzzhng  and  toping  : 

Many  days  I  have  no  breakfast  and  no  dinner.  I  went  from  Devizes  to 
Highwater  without  breaking  my  fast  a  distance  of  more  than  thirty  miles. 
I  sometimes  take  from  a  friend's  house  a  little  bit  of  meat  between  two  bits 
of  bread  which  I  eat  as  I  ride  along  ;  but  whatever  I  save  from  this  fasting 
work,  I  think  I  have  a  clear  right  to  give  away  ;  and,  accordingly,  I  generally 
put  the  amount  in  copper  mto  my  waistcoat  pocket  and  dispose  of  it  during 
the  day.  I  know  well  that  I  am  the  better  for  not  stuffing  and  blowing  my- 
self out  and  with  my  savings  I  make  many  and  many  a  happy  boy  ;  and  now 
and  then  I  give  a  whole  family  a  good  meal  with  the  cost  of  a  breakfast  or  a 
dinner  that  would  have  done  me  mischief. 

And  in  another  place  he  tells  us  how  he  never  has  more  than 
two  meals  a  day  when  he  is  at  home  ^vith  a  httle  tea  or  milk  and 
water  to  drink,  and  with  characteristic  conceit  asks  if  any  man 
can  do  more  bodily  and  mental  work  than  he  does. '         ,  ■  ;4-ife;^'  1 

As  he  passes  along  he  comments  on  the  soil,  the  state  of  the 
crops,  the  harvest,  and  especially  the  trees ;  there  are  constant 
references  to  his  favourite  acacia  and  to  splendid  oak  trees  and 
disparaging  remarks  about  fir  trees  "  and  other  rubbish  "  ;  the 
potato  he  describes  as  "  a  soul  degrading  and  man  enslaving  root "  ;  | 
he  pictures  country  houses  and  cottages;  he  has  much  to  say 


WILLIAM  COBBETT  283 

on  the  wages  of  the  labourers  and  their  condition ;  and  he  tilts 
with  vigorous  and  eloquent  invective  against  his  pet  aversions — 
the  debt  resulting  from  the  war,  paper  money,  parliament  (which 
he  calls  The  Tiling),  large  towns,  parsons,  Jews  and  Quakers. 
Seeing  so  many  depopulated  villages,  and  churches  far  too  large 
for  their  parishes,  he  pours  his  sarcasm  on  those  who  declared 
the  population  was  rising,  though  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  were 
quite  right.  If  he  enters  a  cathedral,  it  is  not  to  admire  the 
architecture,  but  to  reflect  with  bitterness  over  the  Reformation : 

(Winchester.)  The  "  service  "  was  now  begun.  There  is  a  dean  and  God 
knows  how  many  prebends  belonging  to  this  immensely  rich  bishopric  and 
chapter  ;  and  there  were  at  this  "  service  "  two  or  three  men  and  five  or  six 
boys  in  white  surplices  with  a  congregation  of  fifteen  women  and  four  men. 
Gracious  God  !  If  William  of  Wykham  co\ild  at  that  moment  have  been 
raised  from  his  tomb.  If  Saint  Swithin  whose  name  the  Cathedral  bears  or 
Alfred  the  Great  to  whom  St  Swithin  was  tutor  ;  if  either  of  these  could  have 
come  and  had  been  told  that  that  was  now  carried  on  by  men  who  talked  of 
the  "  damnable  errors  "  of  those  who  foimded  that  very  Church  ! 

(Salisbury.)  I  at  last  tinned  in  at  a  doorway  to  my  left  where  I  found  a 
priest  and  his  congregation  assembled.  It  was  a  parson  of  some  sort  with  a 
white  covering  on  him  and  five  women  and  fovir  men  ;  when  I  arrived  there 
were  five  couple  of  us.  I  joined  the  congregation  imtil  they  came  to  the 
litany  and  then  being  monstrously  hungry  I  did  not  think  myself  bound  to 
stay  any  longer.  I  wonder  what  the  foimders  would  say  if  they  could  rise 
from  the  grave  and  see  such  a  congregation  as  this  in  this  most  magnificent 
and  beautiful  Cathedral?  I  wonder  what  they  would  say  if  they  could  know 
to  what  pmrpose  the  endowments  of  this  Cathedral  are  now  applied  ;  and 
above  all  things,  I  wonder  what  they  would  say  if  they  could  see  the  half 
starved  labourers  that  now  minister  to  the  luxuries  of  those  who  wallow  in  the 
wealth  of  those  endowments. 

Out  of  the  many  appreciations  he  gives  in  the  daily  records 
of  his  rides  of  country  scenery  let  us  select  a  few  descriptions 
of  special  beauty. 

(Sussex.)  Woodland  countries  are  interesting  on  many  accounts.  Not 
so  much  on  account  of  their  masses  of  green  leaves  as  on  account  of  their 
variety  of  sights  and  soimds  and  incidents  that  they  afford.  Even  in  Winter 
the  coppices  are  beautiful  to  the  eye  while  they  comfort  the  mind  with  the 
idea  of  shelter  and  warmth.  In  spring  they  change  their  hue  from  day  to  day 
during  two  whole  months  which  is  about  the  time  from  the  appearance  of  the 
delicate  leaves  of  the  birch  to  the  full  expansion  of  those  of  the  ash  ;  and  even 
before  the  leaves  come  at  all  to  intercept  the  view,  what  in  the  vegetable 
creation  is  so  delightful  to  behold  as  the  bed  of  a  coppice  bespringled  with 
primroses  and  bluebells  ?  The  opening  of  the  birch  leaves  is  the  signal  for 
the  pheasant  to  begin  to  crow,  for  the  blackbird  to  whistle  and  the  thrush  to 
sing  ;  and  just  when  the  oak  buds  begin  to  look  reddish  and  not  a  day  before, 
the  whole  tribe  of  finches  burst  forth  in  songs  from  every  bough  while  the  lark 
imitating  them  all,  carries  the  joyous  sounds  to  the  sky. 


284  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

{Hampshire.)  On  we  trotted  up  this  pretty  green  lane;  and  indeed  we 
had  been  coming  gently  and  generally  up  hill  for  a  good  while.  The  lane 
was  between  highish  banks  and  pretty  high  stuff  growing  on  the  banks  so  that 
we  could  see  no  distance  from  us  and  could  receive  not  the  smallest  hint  of 
what  was  so  near  at  hand.  The  lane  had  a  little  turn  towards  the  end  ;  so 
that,  out  we  came,  all  in  a  moment  at  the  very  edge  of  the  hanger  !  And 
never  in  all  my  life  was  I  so  siirprised  and  so  dehghted  !  I  pulled  up  my  horse 
and  sat  and  looked  ;  and  it  was  like  looking  from  the  top  of  a  castle  into  the 
sea  except  that  the  valley  was  land  and  not  water.  I  looked  at  my  servant 
to  see  what  effect  this  miexpected  sight  had  upon  him.  His  surprise  was  as 
great  as  mine.  Those  who  had  so  strenuously  dwelt  on  the  dirt  and  dangers 
of  this  rout  had  said  not  a  word  about  the  beauties,  the  matchless  beauties 
of  the  scenery. 

(Near  Ipswich.)  A  lark  very  near  to  me  in  a  ploughed  field  rose  from  the 
ground  and  was  saluting  the  sun  with  his  delightful  song.  He  was  got  about 
as  high  as  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  having  me  for  a  motionless  and  admiring 
auditor  when  the  hen  started  up  from  nearly  the  same  spot  whence  the  cock 
had  risen,  flew  up  and  passed  close  by  him.  I  could  not  hear  what  she  said  ; 
but  supposed  that  she  must  have  given  him  a  pretty  smart  reprimand  ;  for 
down  she  came  upon  the  ground  and  he  ceasing  to  sing  took  a  twirl  in  the  air 
and  came  down  after  her. 

Oh  !  the  thousands  of  linnets  all  singing  together  on  one  tree  in  the  sand 
hills  of  Surrey  !  Oh  !  the  carolling  in  the  coppices  and  the  dingles  of  Hamp- 
shire and  Siissex  and  Kent  !  At  this  moment  (5  o'clock  in  the  morning)  the 
groves  at  Barm-Elm  are  echoing  with  the  warblings  of  thousands  upon  thou- 
sands of  birds.  The  thrush  begins  a  little  before  it  is  light ;  next  the  black- 
bird ;  next  the  lark  begins  to  rise  ;  all  the  rest  begin  the  moment  the  sun  gives 
the  signal ;  and  from  the  hedges,  the  bushes,  from  the  middle  and  the  topmost 
twigs  of  the  trees  comes  the  singing  of  endless  variety  ;  from  the  long  dead 
grass  comes  the  sotmd  of  the  sweet  and  soft  voice  of  the  wliite  throat  or  nettle 
tom  while  the  loud  and  merry  song  of  the  lark,  the  songster  himself  out  of 
sight,  seems  to  descend  from  the  sky. 

As  a  contrast  to  these,  let  us  hear  Cobbett  on  towns. 

Brighton  is  naturally  a  place  of  resort  for  expectants  and  a  shifty  ugly- 
looking  swarm  is  of  com-se  assembled  there.  .  ,  .  You  may  always  know  them 
by  their  lank  jaws,  the  stiSener  roxmd  their  necks,  their  false  sholders,  hips, 
and  hatmches,  their  half  whiskers  and  by  their  skin  colour  of  veal  kidney  suet 
warmed  a  little  and  then  powdered  with  dirty  dust. 

Westbury,  a  nasty  odious  rotten  borough,  a  really  rotten  place.  It  has 
cloth  factories  in  it  and  they  seem  to  be  ready  to  tumble  down  as  well  as  many 
of  the  houses.     God's  curse  seems  to  be  upon  most  of  these  rotten  boroughs. 

Deal  is  a  villainous  place.  It  is  full  of  filthy  looking  people.  .  .  .  Rotten- 
ness and  putridity  is  excellent  for  land  but  bad  for  Boroughs. 

Cheltenham  which  is  what  they  call  a  "  watering  place  "  that  is  to  say  a 
place  to  which  East  India  plunderers.  West  India  floggers,  English  tax- 
gorgers,  together  with  gluttons  drunkards  and  debauchees  of  all  descriptions 
female  as  well  as  male,  resort  at  the  suggestion  of  silently  laughing  quacks 
in  the  hope  of  getting  rid  of  the  bodily  consequences  of  their  manifold  sins 


WILLIAM  COBBETT  285 

and  iniquities,  when  I  enter  a  place  like  this  I  always  feel  disposed  to  squeeze 
my  nose  with  my  fingers.  It  is  nonsense,  to  be  sure,  but  I  conceive  that 
every  two  legged  creature  that  I  see  coming  near  me  is  about  to  cover  me  with 
the  poisonous  proceeds  of  its  impurities. 

Cobbett  is  never  on  stronger  ground  than  when  he  is  con- 
demning the  growth  of  large  towns.  We  can  hardly  imagine 
what  his  language  would  be  were  he  to  see  the  dimensions  to  which 
they  have  grown  to-day. 

Have  I  not  for  twenty  long  years  been  regretting  the  existence  of  these 
unnatiu-al  embossments  ;  these  white  swellings,  these  odious  wens,  produced 
by  Corruption  and  engendering  crime  and  misery  and  slavery  ?  .  .  .  But 
what  is  to  be  the  fate  of  the  great  wen  of  all  ?  The  monster  called  by  the 
silly  coxcombs  of  the  press  "  the  metropolis  of  the  Empire  "  ? 

He  constantly  returns  to  this  theme.  Reflecting  on  the  de- 
creasing population  and  the  poverty  of  the  country  side,  he 
exclaims  :  "  and  yet  you  hear  the  jolter  heads  congratulating 
one  another  upon  the  increase  of  Manchester  and  such  places." 
And  at  the  end  of  one  of  his  rides  he  says  :  "  For  the  present, 
however,  farewell  to  the  country  and  now  for  the  Wen  and  its 
villainous  corruptions . ' ' 

It  was  the  condition  of  the  people  whom  he  saw  with  his  own 
eyes  that  infuriated  Cobbett,  caused  his  outbursts  of  anger  and 
his  determination  to  continue  the  political  struggle — ^the  pretty 
girls  "  ragged  as  colts  and  as  pale  as  ashes  "  with  their  "  blue 
arms  and  lips,"  the  miserable  poverty,  the  dwelhngs  "  little 
better  than  pig  beds,"  the  human  wretchedness  and  want  of 
decent  food — these  sights  make  him  cry — and  we  can  almost 
hear  him  shouting  it  out,  "  And  this  is  'prosperity  is  it  ?  These 
Oh  !  Pitt !  are  the  fruits  of  thy  hellish  system  "  ;  and  then  we 
get  pages  of  invective. 

Tired  after  his  day  and  on  one  occasion  putting  in  a  paren- 
thesis ("  for  I  want  to  go  to  bed  ")  nevertheless  he  writes  three 
or  four  pages  of  attack  on  Canning.  Indeed,  nearly  half  the 
journal  is  poUtical,  and  we  often  have  complete  reports  of  the 
speeches  he  makes  to  farmers  and  others.  But  however  effective 
Cobbett  may  have  been  as  a  poHtical  controversiaUst,  however 
amusing  his  sallies  against  ministers  and  Parliaments,  that  side 
of  him  can  be  fully  examined  by  a  study  of  his  speeches,  articles 
and  pamphlets.  In  his  journal  we  are,  therefore,  more  inclined 
to  pick  out  the  episodes  and  opinions  which  give  us  a  more  in- 
timate view  of  the  man.  For  instance,  what  could  be  more 
human  and  charming  than  the  httle  incident  with  his  son  Richard, 
"Who  was  his  companion  on  one  of  his  rides  ? 


286  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

One  of  the  loops  that  held  the  strap  of  Richard's  little  portmanteau  broke, 
and  it  became  necessary  for  me  to  fasten  the  portmanteau  on  before  me,  upon 
my  saddle.  This,  which  was  not  the  work  of  more  than  five  minutes,  would, 
had  I  had  a  breakfast,  have  been  nothing  at  all,  and  indeed,  matter  of  laughter. 
But  now  it  was  something.  It  was  his  "fault  "  for  capering  and  jerking 
about  "so."  I  jumped  off  saying  "  Here  !  I  wiU  carry  it  myself."  And 
then  I  began  to  take  off  the  remaining  strap,  pulling  with  great  violence  and 
in  great  haste.  Just  at  this  time,  my  eyes  met  his  in  which  I  saw  great  sur- 
prise ;  and  feeling  the  just  rebuke  feeling  heartily  ashamed  of  myseK,  I 
instantly  changed  my  tone  and  manner  cast  the  blame  upon  the  sadler 
and  talked  of  the  effectual  means  which  we  would  take  to  prevent  the  like 
in  the  futiire. 

Of  course  he  draws  a  moral  from  the  incident ; 

If  such  was  the  efiect  produced  upon  me  by  the  want  of  food  for  only  two 
or  three  hoxirs  me  who  had  dined  well  the  day  before  and  eaten  toast  and 
butter  the  over-night  ...  if  this  mere  absence  of  a  breakfast  could  thus  put 
me  out  of  temper,  how  great  are  the  allowances  that  we  ought  to  make  for 
the  poor  creatures  who  in  this  once  happy  and  now  miserable  country  are 
doomed  to  lead  a  life  of  constant  labour  and  of  half  starvation. 

After  ministers  of  state,  ministers  of  rehgion  are  the  most 
frequent  target  for  Cobbett's  wrath.  We  will  give  his  account 
of  a  sermon. 

When  I  came  to  the  place  the  parson  was  got  into  prayer.  His  hand 
clenched  together  and  held  up  his  face  turned  up  and  back  so  as  to  be  nearly 
parallel  with  the  ceiUng  and  he  was  bawHng  away  with  his  "  do  thou  "  and 
"  mayst  thou  "  and  "  may  we  "  enough  to  stun  one.  .  .  .  After  a  deal  of 
this  rigmarole  called  prayer  came  the  preaching  .  .  .  such  a  mixtiu^e  of  whining 
cant  and  of  foppish  affectation  I  scarcely  ever  heard  in  my  life.  (He  gives 
the  text. )  .  .  .  after  as  neat  a  dish  of  nonsense  and  impertinences  as  one  could 
wish  to  have  served  up  came  the  distinction  between  the  ungodly  and  the 
sinner.  .  .  .     Both  he  positively  told  us  were  to  be  damned. 

As  he  travels  about  the  landowners  are  naturally  the  class 
which  stirs  him  to  exasperation,  though  now  and  again  he  praises 
the  efforts  of  certain  individuals.  At  Salisbury  he  fairly  lets 
himself  go,  and  breaks  out  in  one  of  the  longest  entries  in  his 
journal,  thus  : 

The  baseness,  the  foul,  the  stinking,  the  carrion  baseness  of  the  fellows  that 
caU  themselves  "  co\m.try  gentlemen  "  is,  that  the  wretches  while  railing 
against  the  poor  and  the  poor  rates  ;  while  aSecting  to  believe  that  the  poor 
are  wicked  and  lazy  ;  while  complaining  that  the  poor,  the  working  people, 
are  too  numerous  and  that  the  country  villages  are  too  populovis  ;  the  carrion 
baseness  of  these  wretches  is  that  while  they  are  thus  bold  with  regard  to  the 
working  people,  they  never  whisper  a  word  against  pensioners,  placemen, 
soldiers,  parsons,  fund  holders,  tax  gatherers  or  taxeaters  !  They  say  not  a 
word  against  the  prolific  dead-weight,  to  whom  they  give  a  premium  for 
breeding  while  they  want  to  check  the  population  of  labourers  !  They  never 
say  a  word  about  the  too  great  populousnesa  of  the  Wen  ;  nor  about  that  of 


WILLIAM  COBBETT  287 

Liverpool,  Manchester,  Cheltenham  and  the  like  !  Oh  !  they  are  the  most 
cowardly  the  very  basest,  the  most  scandalously  base  reptiles  that  ever  were 
warmed  into  life  by  the  rays  of  the  sun  ! 

Outside  this  class  and  the  pohticians  Cobbett  does  not  express 
any  opinion  on  individuals  in  other  walks  of  life.  But  we  get  in 
one  passage  his  opinion  of  Dr.  Johnson,  to  whom  he  refers  as 
"  a  teacher  of  moping  and  melancholy." 

If  the  writings  of  this  time  serving,  mean,  dastardly  old  pensioner  had  got 
a  firm  hold  of  the  minds  of  the  people  at  large,  the  people  would  have  been 
bereft  of  their  very  souls.  These  writings,  aided  by  the  charm  of  pompous 
sound  were  fast  making  their  way,  till  light,  reason  and  the  French  revolution 
came  to  drive  them  into  oblivion. 

His  son  Richard,  aged  11,  has  a  passion  for  fox-hunting.  His 
father  sees  danger  here,  but  says  nothing  discouraging  about 
fox-hunting.     He  craftily  ends  his  discourse  by  declaring  : 

"  but  all  gentlemen  that  go  a  foxhunting  (I  hope  God  will  forgive  me  for  the 
lie)  are  scholars,  Richard.  It  is  not  the  riding  nor  the  scarlet  coats  that  make 
them  gentlemen  ;  it  is  their  scholarship."  What  he  thought  I  do  not  know  ; 
for  he  sat  as  mute  as  a  fish  and  I  covild  not  see  his  countenance.  "  So,"  said 
I  "  you  must  now  begin  to  learn  something  ;  and  you  must  begin  to  learn 
arithmetic." 

After  a  long  discourse  on  how  to  teach  arithmetic  to  children, 
he  ends  up  : 

Nothing  is  so  dangerous  as  supposing  that  you  have  eight  wonders  of  the 
world.  I  have  no  pretensions  to  any  such  possession.  I  look  upon  my  boy 
like  other  boys  in  general.  Their  fathers  can  teach  aritlimetic  as  well  as  I ; 
and  if  they  have  not  a  mind  to  pm-sue  my  method  they  must  pursue  their  own. 
Let  them  apply  to  the  outside  of  the  head  and  to  the  back  if  they  like  ;  let 
them  bargain  for  thumps  and  the  birch  rod  ;  it  is  their  affair  not  mine.  I 
never  saw  in  my  house  a  child  that  was  afraid  ;  that  was  in  any  fear  what- 
soever ;  that  was  ever  for  a  moment  under  any  sort  of  apprehension  on 
account  of  the  learning  of  anything  ;  and  I  never  in  my  life  gave  a  command, 
an  order,  a  request  or  even  advice  to  look  into  any  book  ;  and  I  am  satisfied 
that  the  way  to  make  children  dimces,  to  make  them  detest  books  and  justify 
that  detestation  is  to  tease  them  and  bother  them  upon  the  subject. 

We  must  be  satisfied  with  these  brief  extracts  from  a  very 
voluminous  journal.  They  suffice  perhaps  to  show  us  the  man. 
We  see  Cobbett  in  the  pages  of  his  country  diary  a  mass  of  pre- 
judices, boihng  over  with  rage  at  injustice,  vain,  egotistical  and 
raging  with  uncontrolled  fury  against  all,  specially  those  highly 
placed,  who  disagreed  with  him.  We  see  too  a  man  saturated 
with  the  love  of  nature,  kindly,  domestic,  witty  and  infinitely 
shrewd,  readily  moved  to  anger  by  a  pohtical  challenge,  but  as 
readily  moved  to  love  by  the  song  of  a  lark. 


QUEEN  VICTORIA! 

1832,  Wednesday  August  1.  We  left  K.P.  (Kensington  Palace)  at  6  min. 
past  7  and  went  through  the  Lowerfield  gate  to  the  right.  We  went  on  and 
turned  to  the  left  by  the  new  road  to  Regent's  Park.  The  road  and  scenery 
is  beautiful.  20  min.  to  9.  We  have  just  changed  horses  at  Barnet  a  very 
pretty  little  town.  5  min.  past  J  past  9.  We  have  just  changed  horses  at 
St.  Albans.  The  situation  is  very  pretty  and  there  is  a  beautiful  old  Abbey 
there.  5  min.  past  10.  The  coimtry  is  beautiful  here  ;  they  have  begiin 
to  cut  the  corn  ;  it  is  so  golden  and  fine  that  I  think  they  will  have  a  very 
'  good  harvest  at  least  here.  There  are  also  pretty  hills  and  trees.  20  minutes 
past  10.  We  have  just  passed  a  most  beautiful  old  house  in  a  fine  park  with 
splendid  trees.  A  i  to  11.  We  have  just  changed  horses  at  Dunstable 
there  was  a  fair  there  the  booths  filled  with  fruit,  ribbons  etc.  looked  very 
pretty.  The  town  seems  old  and  there  is  a  fine  abbey  before  it.  The  coxmtry 
is  very  bleak  and  chalky.  12  minutes  to  12.  We  have  just  changed  horses  at 
Brick  hill.  The  coimtry  is  very  beautiful  about  here.  19  min.  to  1.  We 
have  just  changed  horses  at  Stony  Stratford.  The  coimtry  is  yery  pretty. 
About  4  past  one  o'clock  we  arrived  at  Towcester  and  landed  there.  At  14 
minutes  past  2  we  left  it.  At  J  past  3.  We  have  just  changed  horses  at 
Daventry.  The  road  continues  to  be  very  dusty.  1  minute  past  J  past  3. 
We  have  just  passed  through  Braunston  where  there  is  a  curious  spire.  The 
Oxford  Canal  is  close  to  the  town.  1  min.  to  4.  We  have  just  changed 
horses  at  Dunchurch  and  it  is  raining. 

This  is  the  first  paragraph  of  the  first  entry  in  Queen  Victoria's 
diary  which  she  began  writing  at  the  age  of  13.  There  is  nothing 
in  the  least  remarkable  in  a  child  eagerly  writing  in  great  detail  the 
first  entry  in  a  new  diary  book.  But  there  is  something  very 
remarkable  in  the  fact  that  the  child  continued  to  write  and  that 
the  child,  who  lived  to  the  age  of  82,  filled  over  a  hundred  volumes 
with  practically  daily  entries,  kept  up  to  the  very  end  of  her 
hfe.  In  later  years  the  lady-in-waiting  wrote  the  details  of  the 
functions  while  she  herself  noted  her  personal  impressions.  Of 
these  hundred  volumes  only  extracts  have  been  published  covering 
the  period  before  her  marriage  1832-1840  (pubhshed  in  1912)  and 
extracts  taken  from  the  diaries  between  1848-1862  and  published 
under  the  title  of  Leaves  from  the  Journal  of  our  Life  in  the  High- 

1  The  Diary  extracts  from  The  Childhood  of  Queen  Victoria  are  quoted  by 
kind  permission  of  Viscount  Esher  and  Mr.  John  Murray. 

288 


QUEEN  VICTORIA  289 

lands  and  More  Leaves  (1862-1882),  both  of  them  pubUshed  during 
the  Queen's  lifetime,  the  first  in  1868,  the  second  in  1883. 

Future  generations  may  read  Queen  Victoria's  diary,  we 
have  only  got  these  scrupulously  edited  extracts.  Editing, 
as  we  have  already  had  occasion  to  notice,  does  not  improve 
the  quality  of  a  diary,  and  often  deprives  us  of  much  that  might 
be  of  real  human  interest.  In  the  case  of  a  sovereign  who  died 
so  recently  editing  becomes  not  only  a  personal  but  an  official 
matter.  In  the  earlier  diaries  the  dots  and  spaces  are  tantalizing  ; 
in  the  latter  Leaves  the  passages  were  selected  by  the  Queen 
herself,  the  editor  knowing  that  anything  from  her  pen  would 
be  likely  to  reach  a  very  large  public.  As  a  diary  they  are  of 
little  value.  The  early  diaries,  in  spite  of  omissions,  do  disclose 
to  a  considerable  extent  the  personahty  of  the  writer. 

The  Queen,  Sir  Arthur  Helps  tells  us  in  the  preface  to  the 
Leaves,  declared  "  that  she  had  no  skill  whatever  in  authorship," 
and  indeed  it  is  apparent  enough  throughout  that  her  literary 
skill  was  very  limited.  It  was  not  Fanny  Burney's  facility  for 
expression  which  induced  her  to  keep  a  diary,  nor  was  there  any 
desire  for  introspection,  or  self-analysis  which  a  Windham  might 
show ;  nor  hke  Wesley,  another  lifelong  diarist,  did  she  wish  to 
impart  a  lesson  to  her  fellows  by  precept  and  example.  She 
simply  acquired  the  habit  wliich  she  regarded  as  a  duty  and 
diligently  noted  events  as  a  help,  no  doubt,  to  her  memory, 
which,  as  time  proved,  became  wonderfully  reliable. 

But  Queen  Victoria,  except  perhaps  in  the  first  year  or  so  of 
her  diaries,  must  have  been  aware  that  the  diary  of  a  sovereign 
was  certain  one  day  to  see  the  light.  She  might  therefore  have 
posed  for  the  picture,  she  might  have  written  with  her  eye  fixed 
on  posterity,  she  might  have  painted  her  own  portrait  with  the 
consciousness  of  her  position  in  history.  She  did  nothing  of  the 
kind.  And  this  brings  us  to  the  leading  feature  in  the  diary 
which  the  published  extracts  illustrate  quite  sufficiently.  It  is 
the  most  natural,  misophisticated  and  ingenuous  document  that 
can  be  imagined.  There  is  no  pose,  no  pretence,  and  more 
especially  no  pretension,  about  it.  The  Queen  did  not  have  the 
advantage  of  being  brought  up  Hke  Edward  VI  by  an  Ascham. 
The  precincts  of  an  early  nineteenth-century  court  did  not  con- 
stitute a  favourable  atmosphere  for  intellectual  development. 
She  was  taught  to  be  punctilious,  and  in  spite  of  the  awkward 
and  uncomfortable  position  of  her  mother,  the  Duchess  of  Kent, 
her  inchnations  were  intensely  domestic.  Punctilious  domesticity 
is  essentially  the  characteristic  of  that  period,  and  the  reaction 
19 


290  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

from  it  which  has  been  pushed  to  the  opposite  extreme  in  the 
twentieth  century  will  make  many  feel  that  her  manner,  her 
habit  of  mind,  her  taste,  and  her  method  belong  to  an  age  they 
have  grown  to  regard  with  something  like  contempt.     Nothing 
would  be  easier  than  to  make  fun  in  the  modem  spirit  of  the 
period  and  of  the  person  whose  name  it  takes  and  who  is  the 
incarnation    of  it.     The    Queen's    demonstrative    raptures,    her 
superlatives,  her  limited  vocabulary,  do  not  contribute  to  literary 
finish  or  thoughtful  penetration.     Moreover,  as  Lord  Melbourne 
said,  "  the  life  of  Kings  and  Queens  is  not  very  amusing,"  and 
"  Uncle  Leopold  "  (the  Eng  of  the  Belgians)  went  so  far  as  to 
say  it  was  "  very  tiresome."     In  fact,  the  metier  of  a  monarch  is 
not  at  all  conducive  to  interest  or  entertainment  in  diary  writing. 
Ceremonies,   functions,   banquets,   and  parties  are  dull  to  read 
about,  however  many  great  people  may  have  been  present  at 
them.     Besides  this,  her  indiscretions  and  probably  too   some 
of  her  criticisms    have  all    been    carefully    cut    out.     Nobody 
can  suppose  that  Queen  Victoria  throughout  her  hfe  used  super- 
latives only  in  praise.     Nevertheless,  while  we  find  no  brilliant 
phrases,  no  epigrams,  no  profound  thought  and  no  artistry  what- 
ever, and  while  the  official  blue  pencil  has  no  doubt  deprived 
us  of  much  that  might  be  interesting  and  amusing,  the  faithful 
and  wonderfully  simple  sincerity  of  the  writer  marks  every  page 
we  have  and  probably  every  page  in  the  hundred  volumes.     In 
fact  it  would  not  be  too  much  to  say  that  the  young  Queen  infects 
one  with  her  enthusiasm  for  simple  tilings.     This  ingenuousness 
is  the  feature  that  will  claim  attention  more  in  centuries  to  come 
than  in  the  immediately  succeeding  period  when   a  revulsion 
against  the  domestic  virtues  is  the  fashion  of  the  time. 

Whatever  faults  the  Queen  may  have  had,  she  was  never  indif- 
ferent to  what  was  passing  round  her.  She  was  intensely  interested 
in  life  and  full  of  vitahty  and  energy.  "  I  love  to  be  employed ; 
I  hate  to  be  idle,"  she  writes  when  she  is  16,  and  would  have  written 
the  same  when  she  was  60.  Her  sorrows  and  joys  were  acute 
and  she  never  restrained  herself  in  recording  them.  So  far  as 
we  are  allowed  to  see,  the  sorrows  are  all  for  losses  by  death. 
Hers  was  not  a  temperament  given  to  morbid  dejection,  but  hke 
all  royal  personages  she  was  inclined  to  revel  in  woe.  She  cannot 
find  new  words  to  express  her  feehngs,  so  she  underUnes  the  old 
ones.  But  she  is  quite  incapable  of  affectation.  She  enters  so 
conscientiously  into  the  duties  and  obligations  of  her  isolated 
and  artificial  position  as  to  make  one  understand  how  she  accepted 
it  quite  naturally.     She  revealed  herself  far  more  than  she  knew 


QUEEN  VICTORIA  291 

in  her  daily  jottings.  The  early  diaries  give  the  clue  to  her 
manner  and  method  of  diary  writing,  the  later  volumes  show  that 
she  did  not  change  her  style  in  middle  age,  and  had  we  the  hun- 
dredth volume  before  us  we  should  certainly  find  the  same  naiveU, 
the  same  emphasis,  the  same  absolutely  unaffected  and  childhke 
sincerity.  The  exterior  visions  we  have  first  of  the  girl  in  sweeping 
habit  and  feathered  hat  galloping  along  surrounded  by  ministers 
and  courtiers,  then  of  the  tiara'd,  crinolined,  radiant,  Crystal 
Palace  Queen,  then  of  the  rarely  seen,  rather  cross-looking  widow 
in  a  carriage,  and  finally  of  the  softened  and  smihng  old  lady  of 
the  Jubilees,  correspond  to  no  similar  interior  or  mental  changes. 
In  spite  of  the  great  sorrow  which  robbed  her  of  the  one  person 
whom  she  could  treat  as  an  equal  and  who  saved  her  from  her 
complete  isolation,  she  really  remained  the  same.  She  stored 
up  her  experiences  carefully  and  found  that  their  extent  and  the 
accurate  recollection  of  them  served  her  well  and  proved  a  rather 
formidable  weapon  in  her  old  age. 

The  entries  of  the  early  diaries  contain  httle  more  than  records 
of  events  and  ceremonies  given  very  fully  with  a  punctilious 
regard  for  accuracy  in  titles  and  relationships.  The  smaller  as 
well  as  the  greater  pursuits  are  faithfully  recorded.  For  instance, 
an  afternoon  in  1832  is  entered  thus  : 

At  one  we  lunched.  I  then  played  on  the  piano  and  at  a  little  before  3 
played  billiards  downstairs  with  Victoire  and  then  went  out  walking.  When 
I  came  home  1  first  worked  and  then  we  blew  soap-bubbles. 

And  a  visit  to  Plymouth  in  1833  : 

At  about  J  past  9  we  went  on  board  the  dear  little  Emerald.  We  were  to  be 
towed  up  to  Plymouth.  Mama  and  Lehzen  were  very  sick  and  I  was  sick  for 
about  J  an  hour.     At  1  I  had  a  hot  mutton  chop  on  deck. 

In  1837  she  gives  quite  an  amusing  account  of  a  game  of 
chess : 

The  rest  of  the  evening  I  sat  on  the  sofa  with  dearest  Aunt  Louise  who 
played  at  chess  with  me  to  teach  me  and  Lord  Melbourne  sat  near  me.  Lord 
Tavistock,  Lord  Palmerston,  Mrs.  Cavendish,  Sir  J.  Hobhouse  and  Mme  de 
M6rode  sat  round  the  table.  Lord  Melbourne,  Lord  Palmerston,  Sir  J. 
Hobhouse,  and  later  too  Lord  Conyngham  all  gave  me  advice  and  all  different 
advice  about  my  playing  at  chess  and  all  got  so  eager  that  it  was  very  amusing  ; 
in  particular  Lord  Palmerston  and  Sir  J.  Hobhouse  who  differed  totally  and 
got  quite  excited  and  serious  about  it.  Between  them  all  I  got  quite  beat  and 
Avint  Louise  triumphed  over  my  Council  of  Ministers  ! 

She  loved  playgoing,  and  many  entries  are  occupied  with  descrip- 
tions of  plays  and  criticisms  of  actors.     Her  appreciation 


j 


292  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

acting  remained  throughout  her  hfe,  and  was  as  strong  when 
she  was  80  as  when  she  was  18. 

On  her  sixteenth  birthday  she  gives  a  long  and  elaborate 
description  of  all  the  presents  she  receives,  but  she  thinks  she  must 
preface  it  by  a  few  reflections  in  the  copy-book  morality  stram : 

To-day  my  16th  birthday  !  How  very  old  that  sounds  ;  but  I  feel  that  the 
two  years  to  come  tiU  I  attain  my  18th  are  the  most  important  of  any  almost. 
I  now  only  begin  to  appreciate  my  lessons  and  hope  from  this  time  on  to  make 
great  progress. 

Throughout  the  diaries  it  wiU  be  found  that  the  Queen's  sorrows  ^ 
were  produced  almost  exclusively  by  the  death  of  her  friends  and 
relations.     Mourning  was  a  duty,  and  mourning  was  a  function. 
We  see  it  at  the  age  of  16  when  a  nurse  who  "  was  not  a  pleasant 
person  "  dies  and  she  Avrites  :    "  it  would  be  very  wrong  if  I  did 
not  feel  her  death,"  and  she  breaks  out  constantly  mto  "  awful 
and  "  dreadful "  when  recording  the  death  of  anyone  she  knew. 
This  attitude  towards  death  was  what  she  was  taught  by  the 
deans  and  bishops,  and  it  must  be  remembered  that  black  hearses, 
plumes,  mourning  bands,  crape,  heavy  horse  cloths,  drawn  bUnds, 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  hideous  paraphernaha  of  mournmg  had  been 
introduced  by  the  Hanoverians  and  reached  their  highest  pitch 
in  the  nineteenth  century  as  the  pri\dlege  of  the  rich  and  the 
ambition  of  the  poor.     It  was  this  way  of  regarding  demonstra- 
tions of  mourning  as  a  duty  and  as  a  sign  of  affection  that  induced 
the  Queen  to  exceed  aU  Mmits  when  her  husband  died.     To  her 
all  the  years  it  lasted  it  was  a  sacred  duty.     No  one  dared  teU 
her  that  it  was  the  most  excessive  self-indulgence. 

Rehgion  occurs  in  the  diary  occasionaUy  in  the  form  of  thanks- 
giving to  God,  accounts  of  sermons  and  Church  ceremonies. 
But  she  is  determined  not  to  be  troubled  by  the  confusions 
of  rehgious  speculation.  She  writes  at  the  age  of  19  when  the 
tenets  of  various  sects  are  explained  to  her : 

I  said  one  could  get  oneself  quite  puzzled  by  thinking  too  much  about  these 
matters  and  that  I  thought  it  was  wrong  to  do  so. 

And  a  year  later : 

I  said  that  the  use  of  the  church  was  that  it  made  one  think  of  what  one 
would  otherwise  not  think  of. 

She  finds  time  on  the  very  day  of  her  accession  to  write  a  full 
account  of  the  momentous  scene— and  even  to  insert  a  briet 
reflection ; 


QUEEN  VICTORIA  293 

Since  it  has  pleased  Providence  to  place  me  in  this  station  I  shall  do  my 
utmost  to  fulfil  my  duty  towards  my  comatry.  I  am  very  young  and  perhaps 
in  many  though  not  in  all  things  inexperienced  but  I  am  sure  that  very  few- 
have  more  real  good  will  and  more  real  desire  to  do  what  is  fit  and  right  than 
I  have. 

After  her  accession  a  large  part  of  her  diary  is  taken  up  with 
records  of  her  conversations  with  Lord  Melbourne.  He  was 
her  first  Prime  Minister,  her  confidential  adviser  and  her  political 
coach,  and  before  her  accession  she  had  not  come  into  close  con- 
tact with  any  intelligent  people.  She  is  therefore  very  naturally 
impressed  by  him.  As  Mr.  Strachey  ^  says  :  "  Upon  every  page 
Lord  M  is  present.  Lord  M  is  speaking,  Lord  M  is  being  amusing, 
instructive,  delightful  and  affectionate  at  once,  while  Victoria 
drinks  in  the  honeyed  words,  laughs  till  she  shows  her  gums, 
tries  hard  to  remember  and  runs  off  as  soon  as  she  is  left  alone  to 
put  it  all  down."  In  addition  to  politics,  they  discuss  books, 
plays,  education,  food,  clothes,  gardens,  and  in  fact  every  con- 
ceivable topic  that  comes  up.     This  is  the  sort  of  thing : 

1837.  Lord  Melbovime  rode  near  me  the  whole  time.  The  more  I  see  of 
him  and  the  more  I  know  of  him,  the  more  I  like  and  appreciate  his  fine  and 
honest  character.  I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  him  every  day  these  last  5  weeka 
and  I  have  always  found  him  in  good  humour,  kind,  good  and  most  agreeable  : 
I  have  seen  him  in  my  Closet  for  Political  affairs,  I  have  ridden  out  with  him 
(every  day)  I  have  sat  near  him  constantly  at  and  after  dinner  and  talked 
about  all  sorts  of  things  and  have  always  found  him  a  kind  and  most  excellent 
and  very  agreeable  man.     I  am  very  fond  of  him. 

1838.  I  asked  Lord  Melbourne  how  he  liked  my  dress.  He  said  he  thought 
it"  very  pretty  "and  that  "  it  did  very  well."  He  is  so  natural  and  funny 
and  nice  about  toilette  and  has  very  good  taste,  I  think. 

1839.  Said  to  Lord  M I  was  never  satisfied  with  my  own  reading  and  thought 
I  put  the  wrong  emphasis  upon  words  ;  he  said  "  no  you  read  very  well ; 
I  thought  you  read  it  very  well  this  morning  ' '  ;  and  I  said  I  often  felt  so  con- 
scious of  saying  stupid  things  in  conversation  and  that  I  thought  I  was  often 
very  childish  "  You've  no  reason  to  think  that  "  said  Lord  M  and  that  I 
feared  I  often  asked  him  tiresome  and  indiscreet  questions  and  bored  him 

Never  the  least "  he  replied  "  You  ought  to  ask." 

Talked  of  my  being  so  sUent  which  I  thought  wrong  and  uncivil  as  I  hated 
it  in  others.  "  Silence  is  a  good  thing  "  said  Lord  M  "  if  you  have  nothing 
to  say."  I  said  I  hated  it  in  others  and  that  it  annoyed  me  when  he  was 
silent.  "  I'm  afraid  I  am  so  sometimes  "  he  said  "  won't  say  a  word."  Yes 
I  said  that  nothing  could  be  got  out  of  him  sometimes.  "  And  that  you 
dislike  ?  "  he  said.  Yes,  I  said,  it  made  me  imhappy,  which  made  him 
laugh. 

^  Queen  Victoria,  by  Lytton  Strachey. 


294  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Talked  to  Lord  M  of  his  being  tired  and  I  said  he  mustn't  go  to  sleep  before 
so  many  people  for  that  he  generally  snored  !  ' '  That  proclaims  it  too  much," 
he  said,  in  which  I  quite  agreed. 

In  her  historical  conversations  with  Lord  Melbourne  we  get  her 
opinions  on  some  of  her  predecessors.  She  is  very  much  shocked 
at  the  way  Henry  VIII  treated  his  wives.  "  Spoke  of  Charles  I 
whom  I  thought  much  to  blame."  "  I  observed  that  Richard 
III  was  a  very  bad  man  :  Lord  Melbourne  also  thinks  he  was  a 
horrid  man,"  and  she  makes  him  tell  her  many  anecdotes  about 
George  III  and  George  IV. 

Dancing  was  a  great  joy  to  her,  and  she  describes  balls  with 
great  enthusiasm.  "  I  never  enjoyed  myself  more.  We  were  all 
so  merry."  "  It  was  a  lovely  ball,  so  gay,  so  nice,  and  I  felt  so 
happy  and  so  merry." 

When  Prince  Albert  appears  on  the  scene  the  intensity  of 
rapture  reaches  a  superlative  degree. 

First  of  all  with  his  brother  Ernest, 

those  dearest  beloved  Cousins  whom  I  do  love  so  very  very  dearly  ;  much  inore 
dearly  than  any  other  cousins  in  the  world. 

"  It  was  with  some  emotion  that  I  beheld  Albert  who  is  beauti- 
ful ..  .  he  is  so  handsome  and  pleasing  ...  he  dances  so  beauti- 
fully," etc.,  and  she  describes  "  his  exquisite  nose,"  and  "  dehcate 
mustachios  and  slight  but  very  slight  whiskers."  Her  reluctance 
to  marry  disappears  and  the  intimacy  advances  :  "I  played  2 
games  of  Tactics  with  dear  Albert  and  2  at  Fox  and  Geese.  Stayed 
up  till  20  m.'past  11.  A  deUghtful  evening."  Two  days  later  she 
describes  her  proposal. 

At  about  i  p.  12  I  sent  for  Albert :  he  came  to  the  Closet  where  I  was  alone 
and  after  a  few  minutes  I  said  to  him  that  I  thought  he  must  be  aware  why 
I  wished  him  to  come  here— and  that  it  would  make  me  too  happy  if  he  would 
consent  to  what  I  wished  (to  marry  me).  We  embraced  each  other  and  he 
was  so  kind  and  so  affectionate.  I  told  him  I  was  quite  unworthy  of  him — 
he  said  he  would  be  very  happy  "  das  Leben  mit  dir  zu  zubringen  "  and  was 
BO  kind  and  seemed  so  happy  that  I  really  felt  it  was  the  happiest  moment  in 
my  life. 

In  the  afternoon  she  sees  Lord  Melbourne,  and  after  some 
prehminary  remarks  about  the  weather  and  Lord  Huntingdon's 
rank, 

I  then  began  and  said  I  got  well  through  this  with  Albert  "  Oh  !  you  have  " 
said  Lord  M. 

Under  the  ingenuous  innocence  and  simplicity  and  among  the 


QUEEN  VICTORIA  295 

sincere  confessions  of  her  own  shortcomings,  one  looks  for  traces 
of  the  development  of  the  Queen's  determination  which  Greville 
described  as  her  peremptory  disposition  and  which  some  may 
have  characterised  as  obstinacy,  and  one  finds  them. 

On  the  subject  of  vaccination  Lord  Melbourne  has  some  difficulty 
in  persuading  her : 

Said  to  Lord  M.  I  should  resist  about  this  vaccination  ;  "  Oh  !  no  you'll 
do  it,"  he  said  kindly  :  I  said  No  and  that  no  one  could  force  me  to  it  ;  he 
agreed  in  that  but  strongly  urged  it  and  said  earnestly  "  Do." 

After  she  had  been  two  years  on  the  throne  Lord  Melbourne  tells 
her : 

I  said  to  Stanley  it's  far  better  that  the  Queen  should  be  thought  high  and 
decided  than  that  she  should  be  thought  weak.  '  By  God  !  '  he  said  '  they 
don't  think  that  of  her  ;  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  that.'  Lord  M.  seeraed  to 
say  this  with  pleasure. 

Pohtically  her  first  exhibition  of  determination  was  with  Sir 
Robert  Peel  over  the  question  of  her  retaining  the  Ladies  of  the 
Bedchamber  on  the  change  of  government.  Here  is  part  of 
the  account  she  gives  to  Lord  Melbourne  of  the  proceedings : 

Soon  after  this,  Sir  Robert  said  "  Now  about  the  Ladies  "  upon  which  I 
said  I  coidd  not  give  up  any  of  my  Ladies  and  never  had  imagined  such  a 
thing  ;  he  asked  if  I  meant  to  retain  all ;  all  I  said  ;  the  Mistress  of  the  Robes 
and  the  Ladies  of  the  Bedchamber  ?  he  asked.  I  replied  all  .  .  .  they  were 
of  more  consequence  than  the  others  and  I  could  not  consent  and  that  it  had 
never  been  done  before  ;  he  said  I  was  a  Queen  Regnant  and  that  made  the 
difference  ;    not  here,  I  said — and  I  maintained  my  right. 

Whether  the  Queen  was  right  or  wrong  is  not  the  question. 
At  the  age  of  20  she  stood  up  to  Sir  Robert  Peel,  so  that  he  refused 
to  form  a  government. 

Over  the  question  of  the  rank  to  be  given  to  Prince  Albert 
she  expresses  herself  very  forcibly  to  Lord  Melbourne  and  she 
ends  her  record  of  the  conversation : 

I  feared  I  vexed  him,  kind,  good  man  as  he  looked,  I  think,  grieved  at  my 
pertinacity. 

And  we  notice  the  order  of  the  last  words  in  the  last  published 
entry  describing  her  marriage  : 

We  took  leave  of  Mama  and  drove  o££  at  near  4 ;   I  and  Albert  alone. 

It  will  not  be  difficult  to  find  other  examples  of  "  pertinacity  " 
when  the  many  other  volumes  of  the  diary  appear. 


296  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

She  mentions  the  books  she  reads,  and  of  course  the  books 
Lord  Melbourne  recommends  her  to  read,  but  she  was  not  a 
great  reader,  although  she  conscientiously  ploughed  through 
some  rather  stiff  volumes. 

Although  in  one  entry  she  says  she  dislikes  "  to  hear  nothing 
else  but  Polities  and  always  Politics,"  she  took  a  sufficiently 
close  interest  in  affairs  to  have  a  strong  political  bias,  and  it  was 
some  httle  time  before  she  overcame  her  prejudice  against  Sir 
Robert  Peel.  Parallels  to  this  also  would  be  found  later  in  her 
reign. 

Leaves  from  the  Journal  of  our  Life  in  the  Highlands  are  simply 
descriptive  extracts  of  expeditions  in  Scotland  lifted  out  of  the 
Queen's  diaries.  The  Queen  was  at  first  reluctant  to  publish 
them,  but  her  scruples  were  overcome  by  editor  and  publisher. 
They  knew,  no  doubt,  that  an  author  counts  more  than  a  book 
with  the  public,  and  that  anything  written  by  the  Sovereign, 
no  matter  what  it  was,  would  be  safe  to  have  an  immense  success. 
Moreover,  at  the  time  of  publication  the  Queen  in  her  retirement 
had  become  a  very  distant  unknown  figure.  A  book  showing 
she  was  an  ordinary  human  being  with  simple  domestic  tastes 
was  likely  to  be  appreciated,  so  descriptions  of  her  expeditions 
and  pursuits  at  Balmoral  were  collected  and  printed. 

The  style  is  very  much  the  same  as  the  style  of  the  early  diaries, 
but  the  entries  are  so  much  cut  and  trimmed  and  edited  for  public 
consumption  that  the  charm  of  personality  is  almost  entirely 
eliminated,  and  there  remains  only  bald  records  of  the  days 
which  gave  her  great  happiness,  or  in  the  second  volume  recollec- 
tions of  and  regrets  over  past  happiness.  The  domestic  scenes 
presented  and  rather  sentimentally  described  appealed  to  a 
majority  of  those  who  read  them,  and  the  picture  of  the  fond 
wife  and  in  the  second  volume  of  the  sorrowing  widow  came  to 
constitute  the  sole  conception  of  the  Queen  in  the  eyes  of  her 
people.  They  had  not  seen  the  earlier  diaries,  they  were  not 
allowed  to  see  anything  else.  Ordinary  people  revelled  in  being 
able  to  read  something  written  by  a  Queen;  superior  people 
laughed  at  the  childish  narratives,  which  were  entirely  devoid 
of  literary  merit  or  political  interest.  Neither  of  them  wondered 
whether  they  were  not  being  presented  with  a  very  incomplete 
picture,  nor  did  they  pause  to  speculate  what  that  part  of  the  diary 
recorded  which  they  were  not  allowed  to  see.  In  fact,  they  were 
all  rather  taken  in. 

For  instance,  they  read  that  in  October,  1868,  the  Queen,  accom- 
panied by  her  gillies  and  attendants,  went  to  a  housewarming 


QUEEN   VICTORIA  297 

at  a  little  house  at  Glassalt  Shiel,  where  reels  were  danced  and 
whisky  toddy  drunk,  Ross  played  the  pipes,  and  the  cook,  the 
housemaids,  the  stablemen,  and  the  pohceman  joined  the  party. 
But  they  were  not  told  that  a  week  or  two  earlier  the  Queen 
was  writing  to  Disraeli  practically  dictating  to  him  with  regard 
to  certain  ecclesiastical  appointments  and  getting  her  own  way.^ 

I  Again  in  September,  1874,  they  read  a  description  of  the  home- 
coming of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Edinburgh  with  "  Brown  in 
full  dress  on  the  rumble  "  ;  Marie  "  in  a  brown  travelMng  dress 
with  a  hat,"  the  playing  of  the  pipes,  the  dancing  of  reels,  and 
the  drinking  of  healths.  But  they  did  not  hear  that  in  the  same 
month    the    Queen    was    having   important    consultations    with 

'  Disraeli,  who  wrote  from  Balmoral  to  Lady  Bradford  saying, 
"  She  opened  all  her  heart  and  mind  to  me  and  rose  immensely 
in  my  intellectual  estimation.  Free  from  all  shyness  she  spoke 
with  great  animation  and  happy  expressions,  showed  not  only 

I  perception  but  discrimination  of  character  and  was  most  interesting 
and  amusing."  "^ 

There  is  little  that  is  worth  quoting  from  the  Leaves.  The 
rapture  over  life  in  the  Highlands  occurs  again  and  again. 

There  is  a  great  peculiarity  about  the  Highlands  and  the  Highlanders  ; 
and  they  are  such  a  chivalrous,  fine  active  people.  Our  stay  among  them 
was  so  delightful.  Independently  of  the  beautiful  scenery  there  was  a  quiet, 
a  retirement,  a  wildness,  a  liberty,  and  a  solitude  that  had  such  a  charm  for 
us. 

The  pure  mountain  air  was  most  refreshing.  All  seemed  to  breathe  freedom 
and  peace  and  to  make  one  forget  the  world  and  its  sad  turmoils. 

She  goes  for  long  expeditions  of  several  days  to  remote  parts 
of  the  Highlands  incognito,  and  the  amusement  and  entertainment 
of  being  able  to  behave  and  be  regarded  as  an  ordinary  mortal 
entranced  her.  They  were  the  only  httle  ventures  she  ever 
made  in  the  Haroun  al-Raschid  style.  We  get  accounts  of  her 
visits  to  cottages  and  her  conversations  with  the  old  women. 
She  shows  the  same  interest  and  accurate  knowledge  of  the 
relationships  and  careers  of  her  gillies,  pipers,  attendants,  dressers 
and  wardrobe  women  as  for  those  of  the  Royal  Family  and  the 
aristocracy.  And  of  course  in  the  first  volume  Albert's  sporting 
exploits  and  doings  figure  very  largely.  There  are  accounts,  too, 
of  the  rejoicings  over  the  fall  of  Sebastopol  and  the  reception 
of  the  news  of  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Welhngton. 

An  instance  of  how  one  diarist  can  be  checked  by  another 

1  Life  of  Benjamin  Disraeli,  Vol.  V,  64-67. 

2  Ibid.,  Vol.  V,  p.  344, 


298  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

occurs  in  her  entry  of  September  13,  1850.  Lord  Carlisle,  as  we 
shall  see,  notes  that  the  Queen,  in  her  anxiety  at  seeing  the  Prince 
Consort  rush  to  the  rescue  of  two  men  who  were  in  danger  in  the 
river,  "pinched  me  very  much."       And  the  Queen  writes: 

There  was  a  cry  for  help  and  a  general  rush  including  Albert  towards  the 
spot  which  frightened  me  so  much  that  I  grasped  Lord  Carlisle's  arm  in  great 
agony. 

The  Queen  made  £2,500  by  the  pubhcation  of  the  Leaves,  and 
with  the  money  she  founded  university  and  school  bursaries  for 
the  people  at  Balmoral. 

As  already  noted,  so  far  as  diary  is  concerned  between  1840 
and  1900,  these  little  scraps  of  what  may  be  called  holiday  notes 
tell  us  very  little,  although  at  the  time  of  their  publication  they 
were  eagerly  read  as  giving  a  complete  picture  of  the  Queen. 
Since  then  we  have  had  two  volumes  of  her  letters,  two  volumes 
of  her  early  diaries  and  her  correspondence  with  Disraeh.  There 
in  a  great  deal  more  to  come.     The  portrait  is  still  incomplete. 

So  far  as  she  was  at  all  conscious  of  any  reader  as  she  wrote, 
it  seems  clear  that  the  Queen  wrote  for  herself  in  her  old  age, 
and  marginal  notes  in  the  diaries  show  that  she  re-read  them. 
Their  eventual  fate,  she,  like  many  other  diarists,  probably  never 

considered. 

The  fiill  disclosure  of  the  life  and  activities  of  Queen  Victoria 
is  not  going  to  reveal  that  the  childishness,  ingenuousness  and 
simplicity  were  a  pose,  and  that  hidden  behind  this  there  was  a 
Machiavellian  figure  of  masterly   intellectual   powers.     Nothing 
as  crude  as  that.     If  we  may  venture  to  prophesy,  when  the 
whole  story  is  known— and  the  hundred  volumes  of   the  diary 
will  reveal  more  than  all  the  histories  and  memoirs— it  will  be  found 
that  what  we  see  of  her  abeady  in  the  material  pubHshed  is  a  true 
picture.     She  was  ingenuous,  she  was  simple,  she  was  entirely 
without  affectation,  she  was  not  highly  educated,  she  was  punc- 
tilious and  domestic,  she  had  strong  prejudices  and  she  was  obstin- 
ate.    But  it  wiU  be  found  also  that  there  was  a  very  pronounced 
personahty,  formed  partly  by  the  immense  range  of  her  experience 
which  was  carefully  stored  in  a  very  retentive  memory,  partly 
too  by  an  individual  charm,  which  struck  as  much  those  who 
came  in  contact  with  her  in  the  last  years  of  her  hfe  as  the  min- 
isters who  were  assembled  round  the  table  at  Kensington  Palace 
on  June  20,   1837;    and  that  this  personahty,  enhanced  by  a 
very  rare  distinction  of  manner  and  bearing,  by  no  means  habitual 
with  sovereigns,  gave  her  a  curiously  indefinable  but  very  strong 


QUEEN  VICTORIA  299 

influence  over  all  who  were  brought  into  relation  with  her,  were 
they  monarchs,  ministers  of  State  or  gillies.  Moreover,  she  was  well 
aware  of  her  own  limitations,  and  would  never  attempt  to  assert 
herself  unless  she  was  quite  sure  of  her  ground.  In  fact.  Queen 
Victoria  wall  be  found  to  be  a  notable  instance  of  the  triumph  of 
character  where  knowledge  and  talents  might  have  failed.  The 
image  of  the  devoted  wife  and  sorrowing  widow  did  very  well  for 
pubhc  consumption  while  she  lived ;  she  was  quite  content  to 
leave  it  at  that,  and  every  one  accepted  it  as  authentic. 

Whether  she  interfered  where  she  ought  not  to  have,  whether 
she  showed  unfair  bias,  whether  she  was  constitutional  or  uncon- 
stitutional, are  matters  open  to  dispute.  The  conclusion  that 
will  eventually  emerge  will  be  that  she  impressed  her  personality 
to  an  unsuspected  degree  on  her  surroundings,  and  that  the  author- 
ity which  came  from  such  simple  sources  was  more  baffling  and 
irresistible  than  the  decrees  of  an  autocrat. 


CAROLINE  FOX 

IN  the  Introduction  the  opinion  has  been  ventured  that  Caro- 
line Fox  stands  first  among  Enghsh  women  diarists.  This 
opinion  should  be  quahfied  by  adding,  "  judging  by  what  we 
see  of  her  journal";  because  her  editor  gives  only  extracts 
which,  numerous  as  they  are,  are  confined  for  the  most  part  to 
objective  memoranda  ;  and  he  remarks  in  the  preliminary  memoir, 
"  It  is  hoped  that  nothing  will  be  found  in  these  pages  which  should 
seem  like  drawing  aside  the  curtains  that  ought  to  be  left  covering 
the  inner  life  of  all."  We  are  always  coming  across  these  curtains, 
and  we  must  frankly  confess  that  from  the  point  of  view  of  a 
reader  they  are  a  nuisance.  The  inner  Mfe  is  the  very  life  we  want 
to  hear  about,  and  without  any  question  in  the  case  of  Caroline  \ 
Fox  a  closer  view  of  herself  would  be  in  the  very  highest  sense  of 
the  word  edifying.  While  a  Quaker  and  devoted  to  religion  in 
the  narrower  meaning  of  the  word,  she  displays  such  breadth  of 
view,  such  wise  philosophic  penetration,  such  balanced  and  well- 
proportioned  opinions  and  such  an  apparent  absence  of  vain 
outbursts  of  self-reproach,  that  her  account  of  her  inner  conflicts 
and  of  life's  struggles  about  which  she  must  have  written  would 
have  been  specially  interesting.  The  curtains,  we  are  glad  to 
say,  have  not  been  effectively  closed  on  all  her  subjective  reflec- 
tions, and  when  we  Hght  on  such  reflections  or  on  references  to 
religion  they  are  never  oppressively  serious,  never  dry  and  never 
accompanied  by  painful  puffs  of  strained  earnestness. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  journal  comes  under  the  category 
of  social  diaries  against  which  disparaging  criticism  has  been 
levelled.  It  does  to  some  extent.  But  the  society  is  her  own, 
and  although  she  was  acquainted  with  people  of  note,  she  is 
not  hunting  celebrities,  there  is  no  breathless  strain  to  coHect 
snippets  of  gossip  or  to  introduce  hsts  of  great  names.  There 
is  no  pursuit  of  notoriety.  It  is  the  calm  atmosphere  of  easy 
and  interesting  intercourse,  reproduced  not  only  faithfully  but 
with  the  skiU  that  makes  the  arguments  and  opinions  expressed 
attractive  to  a  reader.    Not  the  verbatim  method  of  Fanny 

300 


CAROLINE  FOX  301 

Burney,  which  must  entail  a  great  deal  of  invention,  but  the 
epitome  produced  by  a  mind  which  is  absolutely  up  to  the  level 
of  the  talkers  or  disputants. 

The  diary  is  difficult  to  describe.  It  is  one  of  the  minority 
which  should  be  read  from  cover  to  cover.  It  includes  the  years 
1835  to  1871.  She  was  16  when  she  began  it.  Her  horne  was  at 
Penjerick,  in  Cornwall.  Her  father,  one  of  the  well-known 
Quaker  family,  was  a  distinguished  scientific  man  ;  and  it  was 
the  conversation  of  his  friends  that  the  young  girl  began  to  note 
with  wonderfully  precocious  powers  of  understanding  and  appre- 
ciation. 

The  always  vexed  question  of  motive  in  journal  writing  seems 
in  the  case  of  Caroline  Fox  to  be  more  or  less  explained  by  an 
entry  she  makes  in  1855  soon  after  the  death  of  her  brother,  to 
whom  she  was  specially  devoted.     She   writes  : 

I  could  fill  volumes  with  remembrances  and  personal  historiettes  of  inter- 
esting people  but  for  whom  should  I  record  them  now  ? 

In  the  early  years  one  is  struck  by  the  maturity  and  restraint 
of  the  style  as  well  as  by  the  alertness  of  her  powers  of  observation. 
She  was  an  exact  contemporary  of  Queen  Victoria,  and  there  is 
as  little  similarity  in  the  style  and  mental  vision  of  the  two  girls 
as  there  was  in  their  circumstances  and  surroundings. 

It  is  true  that  in  Caroline  Fox's  diary  as  given  to  us  there 
is  hardly  enough  childishness  to  be  quite  natural,  and  had  it 
not  been  that  she  was  evidently  endowed  with  a  sense  of  humour 
her  intellectuality  might  at  times  have  become  rather  excessive. 

When  she  is  17  she  gives  an  amusing  description  of  the  Begum 
of  Oude,  whom  she  meets  in  London,  whose  face  was  one  "  of 
quick  sagacity  but  extreme  ugliness." 

She  and  Papa  talked  a  little  theology,  she  of  course  began  it.  "I  believe 
but  one  God  very  bad  not  to  think  so  ;  you  believe  Jesus  Christ  was  prophet  ?  ' ' 
Papa  said  "  Not  a  prophet  but  the  son  of  God."  "  How  you  think  so,  God 
Almighty  never  marry." 

Caroline  Fox  became  close  friends  with  John  Sterling,  John 
Stuart  Mill  and  the  Carlyles,  and  it  is  her  record  of  conversa- 
tions with  them  that  has  made  her  diary  of  special  interest. 
Mill  she  describes  as 

a  man  of  extraordinary  power  and  genius,  the  founder  of  a  new  school  in 
metaphysics  and  a  most  charming  companion. 

The  conversations  invariably  fall  into  a  more  or  less  philosophic 


302  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

strain,  and  she  gives  Mill's  opinions  with  a  clearness  and  precision 
which  he  himself  could  not  have  surpassed. 

Mill  unburdens  himself  to  her,  tells  her  of  his  childhood,  and 
expresses  doubt  about  the  intellectual  discipline  to  which  he 
was  subjected. 

This  method  of  early  intense  application  he  would  not  recommend  to  others ; 
in  most  cases  it  would  not  answer,  and  where  it  does  the  buoyancy  of  youth  is 
entirely  superseded  by  the  maturity  of  manhood  and  action  is  very  likely  to 
be  merged  in  reflection. 

He  takes  the  most  lively  interest  in  the  Quakers  and  asks  her 
all  about  them.  He  concocts  for  her  "  an  almanack  of  the  odours 
that  scent  the  air  "  arranged  chronologically  according  to  months, 
beginning  with  the  laurel  and  ending  with  the  lime. 

With  Sterling  her  conversations  range  over  a  large  field,  but  she 
manages  so  to  arrange  the  arguments  and  opinions  as  to  make 
every  entry  attract  a  reader's  rapt  attention. 

We  may  give  an  example  of  a  full  entry  which  incidentally 
shows  the  diarist's  incHnation  for  introspection. 

At  one  o'clock  J.  Sterling  entered  and  annovmced  he  had  bought  Dr.  Don- 
elly's  house  !  How  little  did  we  think  of  such  a  climax  a  month  since  and 
even  now  I  cannot  realise  it.  They  intend  moving  early  in  the  summer. 
We  talked  about  motives  ;  he  does  not  like  too  much  self  scrutiny  and  would 
rather  advise  "  Take  the  best  and  wisest  coiu-se,  do  what  you  know  is  right, 
and  then  don't  puzzle  yourself  in  weighing  yovir  motives  ;  forget  yourself  in 
the  object  of  your  striving  as  much  as  possible  ;  any  examination  which  brings 
Self  under  any  colom-s  into  the  foregroxmd  is  bad."  I  don't  altogether  agree 
with  him  here  for  a  hearty  sincere  inlook  tends  I  think  in  no  manner  to  self 
glorification.  He  talked  of  the  strange  breaking  up  of  Sects  and  bodies, 
everywhere  remarkable,  with  a  half  melancholy  sagacity  mixed  with  wondering 
imcertainty.  There  is  so  much  of  the  destructive  spirit  abroad  that  the 
creative  or  at  least  the  constructive  must  be  cherished.  After  a  very  interest- 
ing hour  or  two  we  separated. 

The  first  time  she  sees  Carlyle  is  in  1840  at  one  of  his  lectures 
on  "  Hero  Worship." 

Carlyle  soon  appeared  and  looked  as  if  he  felt  a  well  dressed  London  crowd 
scarcely  the  arena  for  him  to  figure  in  as  a  popular  lecturer.  He  is  a  tall, 
robust  looking  man ;  rugged  simplicity  and  indomitable  strength  are  in  his 
face  and  such  a  glow  of  genius  in  it — ^not  always  smouldering  there  but  flashing 
from  his  beautiful  grey  eyes,  from  the  remoteness  of  their  deep  setting  imder 
that  massive  brow.  His  manner  is  very  quiet  but  he  speaks  like  one  tremend- 
ously convinced  of  what  he  utters  and  who  had  much — very  much — in  him 
that  was  quite  unutterable,  quite  vmfit  to  be  uttered  to  the  xminitiated  ear  ; 
and  when  the  Englishman's  sense  of  beauty  or  truth  exhibited  itself  in  vocifer- 
ous cheers,  he  would  impatiently  almost  contemptuously  wave  his  hand  as  if 
IJiat  were  not  the  sort  of  homage  which  Truth  demanded.     He  began  in  a 


CAROLINE   FOX  303 

rather  low  nervous  voice  with  a  broad  Scotch  accent  but  it  soon  grew  firm 
and  shrank  not  abashed  from  its  great  task.  ■* 

Then  follows  a  clear  epitome  of  the  whole  lecture.  Of  Carlyle's 
forlorn  view  of  his  physical  health  she  speaks,  telling  how  one 
day  he  said  to  Dr.  Calvert : 

Well,  I  can't  wish  Satan  anything  worse  than  to  try  to  digest  for  all  eternity 
with  my  stomach  ;    we  shouldn't  want  fire  and  brimstone  then. 

Here  is  Carlyle  on  Mill : 

He  is  still  too  fond  of  demonstrating  everything.  If  John  Mill  were  to  get 
up  to  heaven  he  would  hardly  be  content  till  he  had  made  out  how  it  all  was. 

She  goes  frequently  to  see  the  Carlyles,  has  long  talks  with 
Mrs.  Carlyle,  and  then  the  great  man  comes  in. 

Carlyle  wandered  down  to  tea  looking  dusky  and  aggrieved  at  having  to 
live  in  such  a  generation  ;    but  he  was  very  cordial  to  us  notwithstanding. 

Sterhng  knows  she  keeps  a  diary,  and  asks  her  why  she  does  not 
describe  the  appearance  of  people  as  well  as  their  conversation. 
She  immediately  starts  on  him,  and  not  only  do  we  get  his  appear- 
ance but  a  wonderfully  penetrating  sketch  of  his  character,  which 
ends : 

In  argument  he  commonly  listens  to  his  antagonists  sentiments  with  a 
smile  less  of  conscious  superiority  than  of  affectionate  contempt — I  mean 
what  would  express  "  Poor  dear  !  she  knows  no  better."  In  argument  on 
deep  or  serious  subjects  however  he  looks  earnest  enough  and  throws  his 
ponderous  strength  into  reasoning  and  feeling  ;  small  chance  then  for  the 
antagonist  who  ventures  to  come  to  blows  !  He  can  make  him  and  his 
arguments  look  so  small  ;  for  truth  to  teU,  he  dearly  loves  this  indomitable 
strength  of  his  ;  and  I  doubt  any  human  power  brruging  him  to  an  acknow- 
ledgment of  a  mistake  with  the  consequent  conviction  tht  the  other  party 
was  right.  Sterling  possesses  a  quickness  and  delicacy  of  perception  quite 
feminine  and  with  it  a  power  of  originating  deep  and  striking  thoughts  and 
making  them  the  foundation  of  a  regular  and  compact  series  of  consequences 
and  deductions  such  as  only  a  man,  and  a  man  of  extraordinary  power  of  close 
thinking  and  clearness  of  vision,  can  attain  vmto.  He  is  singularly  unin- 
fluenced by  the  opinions  of  others,  preferring  on  the  whole  to  run  counter  to 
them  than  make  any  approach  to  a  compromise. 

Here  is  her  description  of  Wordsworth : 

He  is  a  man  of  middle  height  and  not  very  striking  appearance,  the 
low  part  of  the  face  retreating  a  little  ;  his  eye  of  a  somewhat  French  diplo- 
matic character  with  heavy  eye  lids  and  none  of  the  flashing  one  connects 
with  poetic  genius.  'When  speaking  earnestly  his  manner  and  voice  become 
extremely  energetic  ;  and  the  peculiar  emphasis  and  even  accent  he  throws 
into    some   words   add    considerably  to    their   force.     He    evidently    loves 


804  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

the  monologue  style  of  conversation  but  shows  great  candoiir  in  giving  due 
consideration  to  any  remarks  which  others  may  make.  His  manner  is 
simple,  his  general  appearance  that  of  the  abstract  thinker  whom  his  subject 
gradually  warms  into  poetry. 

Caroline  Fox's  own  opinions  and  reflections  do  not  occur  at 
all  frequently.  She  was  no  egotist,  she  was  interested  in  studying 
others.  But  occasionally  we  have  ghmpses  of  her  calm  philoso- 
phic disposition.     A  few  of  these  entries  may  be  quoted  : 

How  I  like  things  to  be  done  quietly  and  without  fuss.  It  is  the  fuss  and 
bustle  principle  which  must  proclaim  itself  until  it  is  hoarse  that  wars  against 
Truth  and  Heroism.  Let  Truth  be  done  in  silence  "  till  it  is  forced  to  speak  " 
and  then  should  it  only  whisper,  all  those  whom  it  may  concern  will  hear. 

But — I  ventured  to  say — rather  than  this  harassmg  search  amongst  the 
multitude  of  conflicting  rays  which  show  but  an  infinite  number  of  tiny  light 
beams  would  it  not  be  wiser  in  simplicity  and  faith  to  direct  the  earnest  gaze 
upward  where  all  rays  of  light  converge  in  one  gloriovis  focus  and  inward  if 
one  ray  is  permitted  to  shine  there  to  guide  the  teachable  spirit  through  this 
misty  half -developed  chaos  of  a  world. 

I  have  assumed  a  name  to-day  for  my  religious  principles— Quaker  Catho- 
licism—having direct  spiritual  teaching  for  its  distinctive  dogma  yet  recognis- 
ing the  high  worth  of  all  other  forms  of  Faith  ;  a  system  in  the  sense  of  inclusion, 
not  exclusion  ;  an  appreciation  of  the  imiversal  and  various  teachings  of  the 
spirit,  through  the  faculties  given  us  or  independent  of  them. 

My  birthday ;  it  seems  as  if  my  f utvire  life  might  well  be  spent  in  giving 
tharia  for  ail  the  mercies  of  the  past. 

The  full  year  is  coming  to  an  end.  How  much  of  anxiety  and  pain  and  grief 
it  has  contained,  but  how  much  too  of  support  and  strength  and  comfort 
granted  through  all,  difficulties  conquered,  paths  made  clear,  duties  made 
pleasant,  very  much  to  strengthen  our  faith  and  to  animate  our  love.  Our 
home  life  now  looks  clear  and  bright  and  we  aU  go  on  cheerily  together  ;  the 
sense  of  change  is  everywhere  but  the  presence  of  the  Changeless  one  is  nearer 

stm. 

But,  as  we  have  said,  the  serious  note  is  never  overstressed. 
The  ridiculous  is  always  able  to  amuse  her. 

At  meeting  a  Friend  spoke  very  sweetly  but  from  circumstances  over  which 
she  had  little  control  her  sermon  forcibly  reminded  me  of  "  going  to  Bexico 
to  zee  the  Bunkies." 

A  damsel  belonging  to  Barclay's  establishment  being  here  I  thought  it 
right  "  to  try  and  do  her  good  "  so  I  asked  her  after  many  unsuccessful 
questions  if  she  had  not  heard  of  the  Lord's  coming  into  the  World.  "  Why  " 
she  said,  ' '  I  may  have  done  so  but  I  have  forgot  it. "  "  But  surely  you  must 
have  heard  your  master  read  about  it  and  heard  of  it  at  school  and  church 
and  chapel."  "  Very  likely  I  have"  said  she  placidly  "  but  it  has  quite 
slipped  my  memory  I  "  and  this  uttered  with  a  lamb-like  face  and  a  mild  blue 
eye. 


CAROLINE  FOX  305 

She  introduces,  too,  a  number  of  good  stories  which  are  far 
above  the  average  anecdotes  often  collected  in  diaries.  We  may 
quote  one : 

Talked  of  Taylor,  Irving,  Coleridge,  and  Charles  Lamb  being  together  ; 
and  the  conversation  turning  on  Mahomet,  Irving  reprobated  him  in  his 
strongest  manner  as  a  prince  of  imposters  without  earnestness  and  without 
faith.  Taylor  thinking  him  not  fairly  used  defended  him  with  much  spirit. 
On  going  away  Taylor  could  not  find  his  hat  and  was  looking  about  for  it 
when  Charles  Lamb  volunteered  his  assistance  with  the  query  "  Taylor, 
did  you  come  in  a  h-h-hat  or  a  t-t-t-turban  ?  " 

She  refers  to  her  health  occasionally,  but  probably  the  editor 
has  cut  out  many  of  these  passages.  Her  weather  remarks  differ 
from  the  usual  perfunctory  note : 

Such  a  beautiful  day,  that  one  felt  quite  confused  how  to  make  the  most  of 
it  and  accordingly  frittered  it  away. 

A  wet  day  and  all  its  luxuries. 

A  fine  day  and  all  its  liabilities. 

There  is  a  good  account  of  her  miraculous  escape  from  a  bull 
which  pursued  her.  She  lay  insensible  on  the  ground,  the  fierce 
animal  pawing  and  snorting  but  never  touching  her.  She  de- 
scribes the  curious  thoughts  that  coursed  through  her  dazed  brain 
as  she  lay  on  the  ground. 

CaroMne  Fox  travelled  abroad  several  times,  and  in  1863  went 
with  her  father  to  Spain.  In  spite  of  her  faihng  health  in  the 
last  years,  she  always  remained  cheerful,  and  she  was  going  the 
round  of  the  cottages  with  New  Year  gifts  a  fortnight  before  she 
died  in  1871,  at  the  age  of  52. 

Her  journals,  together  with  some  of  her  letters,  were  published 
with  her  sister's  consent  in  1882. 


20 


GENERAL  GORDON 

DURING  the  Taiping  revolt  in  China,  when  Gordon  con- 
ducted the  successful  operations  which  eventuaUy  cul- 
minated in  the  complete  suppression  of  the  revolutionary 
movement,  for  a  few  weeks  in  1863  he  kept  a  diary.  It  is  written 
in  the  third  person,  very  brief  and  exclusively  concerned  with 
military  matters.  It  was  subsequently  pubHshed  with  notes 
and  explanation  by  S.  Mossman,  but  it  does  not  call  for  any  com- 
ment. ,,.•!.  4. 

Gordon's  reputation  was  made  in  China,  but  pubhc  mterest 
in  him  centres  round  the  great  tragedy  which  closed  his  career 
twenty  years  later.  We  have  from  his  pen  a  complete  daily 
diary  kept  by  him  at  Khartoum  in  1884  from  September  10  up 
to  December  14,  six  weeks  before  he  was  killed. 

No  sketch  of  Gordon's  adventurous  career  is  needed,  he  is 
far  too  well-known  a  national  figure.  As  we  are  only  concerned 
here  with  the  period  covered  by  his  diary,  it  will  be  sufficient 
to  say  that  in  January,  1884,  he  was  ordered  to  Khartoum  to 
report  on  the  best  method  of  carrying  out  the  evacuation  of  the 
Soudan,  and  was  appointed  Governor- General  by  the  Khedive. 

This  is  a  diary  deahng  with  a  very  special  set  of  circumstances 
and  events,  and  we  might  easily  be  led  into  a  discussion  of  the 
ins  and  outs  and  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  the  pohcy  pursued, 
and  be  drawn  into  the  heated  controversy  which  raged  at  the 
time  and  continued  a  long  time  after  the  faU  of  Khartoum.  We 
must  take  special  care,  therefore,  to  observe  the  practice  which 
has  been  foUowed  throughout  in  the  examination  of  diaries, 
namely,  to  concentrate  our  attention  on  the  diary  itself  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  diarist  and  not  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
events  he  records.  We  shaU  see  the  events,  therefore,  through 
Gordon's  spectacles,  and  however  much  there  may  be  to  be  said 
for  or  against  his  actions  and  opinions,  that  must  be  left  to  the 
historical  student ;   it  does  not  concern  us  here. 

The  journal  consists  of  six  volumes,  each  one  of  which  was 

306 


GENERAL  GORDON  307 

sent  down  at  intervals  from  Khartoum  wrapped  up  in  a  hand- 
kerchief or  a  glasscloth.  It  gives  a  complete  and  detailed  narra- 
tive of  events  and  the  most  outspoken  expressions  of  opinion. 
While  the  soldier  and  administrator  deals  with  the  daily  occur- 
rences of  the  memorable  siege,  it  is  not  by  any  means  a  dry 
military  record.  The  style  is  unconventional  and  relieved  with 
touches  of  satirical  humour,  and  the  story  told  of  those  days  of 
tragic  apprehension  is  intensely  human  and  eminently  readable. 
Gordon  had  the  reputation  of  being  eccentric  in  matters  of 
religion,  but  there  is  in  the  diary  far  less  than  one  might  expect 
of  definitely  religious  character  apart  from  quotations  from  the 
Bible.  In  every  page  of  it  we  can  see  his  character,  masterful, 
determined,  obstinate,  human,  sometimes  apprehensive,  but  never 
despairing,  turning  his  impatience  and  indignation  at  the  follies 
to  which  he  was  being  sacrificed  into  jest  and  firmly  resolved  not 
to  betray  those  around  him  who  were  sharing  with  him  the  ever- 
growing danger.  Like  the  man  in  Edgar  Allan  Poe's  story, 
he  saw  the  walls  closing  in  on  him.  Now  and  again  the  in- 
evitable disaster  strikes  him,  but  he  never  dwells  on  it  long. 

Gordon  wrote  for  publication.  He  wanted  the  Government 
and  the  country  to  know  what  he  thought  and  to  learn  the  true 
story  of  events.  Each  section  of  the  journal  was  marked,  "  This 
journal  will  want  pruning  out  if  thought  necessary  to  publish." 
Very  few  pages  were  omitted  when  the  whole  journal  appeared 
in  print. 

The  military  details  are  all  carefully  set  out  and  often  accom- 
panied by  maps  and  diagrams  :  raids,  rumours  with  regard  to 
the  Mahdi's  position,  reports  from  spies,  the  despatch  of  mes- 
sengers, calculations  of  the  quantity  of  stores  and  ammunition, 
and  the  daily  events  in  the  garrison  and  town.  Trifles,  too,  are 
not  omitted,  as  when  he  is  stung  by  a  scorpion  in  his  sponge  and 
when  a  mouse  comes  on  to  the  table  and  eats  out  of  his  plate. 
He  draws  little  pictures  and  caricatures  now  and  then.  There 
is  a  sketch  of  an  Egyptian  official  with  large  collars  under  which 
he  writes  :  "  Mr.  Gladstone  has  a  rival  up  here  in  shirt  collars." 
The  funny  side  of  things  struck  him  as  he  wrote  and  he  cannot 
help  bringing  it  in.  He  has  a  peculiar  way  of  breaking  away 
from  a  subject  which  he  thinks  is  getting  tiresome  and  suddenly 
writing  an  imaginary  dialogue  or  making  some  apparently  irrele- 
vant but  humorous  reflections. 

Various  forms  and  instances  of  treachery  were  the  chief  cause 
of  harassment  to  Gordon.  Apostasy  even  on  the  part  of  Euro- 
peans was  not  uncommon.     On  this  he  writes  : 


308  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

It  is  not  a  small  thing  for  a  European  for  fear  of  death  to  deny  oiir  faith  ; 
it  was  not  so  in  old  times  and  it  should  not  be  regarded  as  if  it  was  taking  off 
one  coat  and  putting  on  another.  If  the  Christian  faith  is  a  myth  then  let 
men  thi-ow  it  off  but  it  is  mean  and  dishonourable  to  do  so  merely  to  save 
one's  life  if  one  believes  it  is  the  true  faith.  .  .  .  Treachery  never  succeeds 
and  however  matters  may  end,  it  is  better  to  fall  with  clean  hands  than  to  be 
mixed  up  with  dubious  acts  and  dubious  men.  I  am  using  this  argument  with 
them,  in  saying  :  "  You  ask  me  to  become  a  Mussulman  to  save  my  life  and 
you  yourself  acknowledge  Mahomet  Achmet  as  the  Mahdi  to  save  your  lives ; 
why,  if  we  go  on  this  principle  we  will  be  adopting  every  religion  whose 
adherents  threaten  o\ar  existence,  for  you  know  and  own  when  you  are  safe 
that  Mahomet  Achmet  is  not  the  Mahdi." 

Deplorable  as  much  of  the  material  was  which  he  had  on  his 
side  (for  it  must  be  remembered  he  had  not  a  single  British  soldier), 
the  idea  of  throwing  them  over  or  letting  them  down  never 
entered  his  head.  In  addition  to  his  garrison  the  civil  popula- 
tion numbered  about  40,000.  But  let  us  hear  Gordon  on  diplo- 
matists. They  are  the  chief  obj  ect  of  his  irony,  not  always  perhaps 
quite  fairly,  but,  considering  his  position,  very  naturally  : 

We  are  an  honest  nation  but  our  diplomatists  are  conies  and  not  officially 
honest. 

I  must  say  I  do  not  love  diplomatists  as  a  rale  (and  I  can  fancy  the  turning 
up  of  noses  at  my  venturing  to  express  an  opinion  on  them)  I  mean  in  their 
official  attire,  for,  personally,  the  few  I  know  are  most  agreeable  .  .  .  but 
taking  them  on  their  rostrum  with  their  satellites,  from  their  chiefs  down  to 
the  smaller  fry  no  one  can  imagine  a  more  imsatisfactory  lot  of  men  to  have  to 
do  anything  with. 

I  am  svire  I  should  like  that  fellow  Egerton  (acting  agent  and  consul-general 
at  Cairo).  There  is  a  light  hearted  jocularity  about  his  commimications  and 
I  should  think  the  cares  of  life  sat  easily  on  him.  Notice  the  slip  in  the 
margin.  He  wishes  to  know  exactly  "  day,  hoiu:  and  minute  "  that  he  (Gor- 
don) expects  to  be  m  "  difficulties  as  to  provisions  and  ammmiition."  Now  I 
really  think  if  Egerton  was  to  turn  over  the  "  archives  "  (a  delicious  word)  of 
his  office  he  would  see  we  had  been  in  difficulties  for  provisions  for  some 
months.  It  is  as  if  a  man  on  the  bank  having  seen  his  friend  in  a  river  ah-eady 
bobbed  down  two  or  three  times  hails  "  I  say,  old  fellow,  let  us  know  when  we 
are  to  throw  you  the  life  buoy,  I  know  you  have  bobbed  down  two  or  tlu-ee 
times,  but  it  is  a  pity  to  throw  you  the  life  buoy  vmtil  you  really  are  in  extremis, 
and  I  want  to  know  exactly  for  I  am  a  man  brought  up  in  a  school  of  exactitude 
though  I  ^d  forget  (?)  to  date  my  June  telegram  about  that  Beduin  escort 
contract." 

"  I  must  say  I  hate  our  diplomatists."  Under  this  remark  there 
is  a  very  funny  caricature  of  Egerton  and  Evelyn  Baring.  Egerton 
says  "  I  can't  beUeve  it,  it  is  too  dreadful,"  and  Baring  :  "  Most 
serious  !    Is  it  not  ?   He  calls  us  humbugs  !  arrant  humbugs  !  " 

Evelyn  Baring  (afterwards  Lord  Cromer),  who,  it  will  be  re 


GENERAL   GORDON  309 

membered,  never  approved  of  Gordon's  mission,  comes  in  also 
for  his  share  of  the  diarist's  irony.  Gordon  writes  a  dozen  lines 
and  then  crosses  them  out,  and  goes  on  : 

All  the  scratched  out  portion  is  abuse  of  Baring.  Some  one  said  "  If  you 
feel  angry ^then  write  your  angry  letter  and  then  tear  it  up. ' '  It  certainly  does 
relieve  the  mind  to  write  one's  bile  and  it  is  good  also  to  scratch  it  out  for  I 
daresay  Baring  is  doing  his  duty  better  than  I  am  ;  he  is  certainly  more 
patriotic  if  patriotism  consists  in  obedience  to  the  existing  Government  of 
one's  cotmtry. 

There  was  a  rumour  that  Baring  himself  was  coming  up. 

If  Baring  does  bump  his  way  up  here  (on  a  camel)  as  British  Commissioner 
I  shall  consider  he  has  expiated  his  faults  and  shall  forgive  him. 

And  later  we  have  an  amusing  imaginary  speech  by  Baring 
arriving,  "  every  bone  in  my  body  dislocated  with  those  beastly 
camels,"  and  expressing  horror  at  the  deplorable  tone  of  Gordon's 
journal. 

Lord  Granville,  of  course,  is  a  special  target  for  his  bitterest 
sarcasm.  He  depicts  him  at  Walmer  reading  his  Times  and 
enlarging  with  impatience  and  indignation  on  the  fact  that 
Khartoum  was  still  holding  out.  Some  of  these  passages,  however, 
are  suppressed  by  the  editor. 

In  the  following  extract  he  includes   himself  in  his  laugh  : 

We  seldom  realise  our  position.  In  ten  or  twelve  yeai's  time  Baring,  Lord 
Wolseley,  myself,  Evelyn  Wood  etc.  will  have  no  teeth,  and  will  be  deaf  ;  some 
of  us  will  be  quite  passe  ;  no  one  will  come  and  court  us  ;  new  Barings,  new 
Lord  Wolseleys  will  have  arisen  who  wiU  call  us  "  bloaks  "  and  "  twaddlers." 
"  Oh  !  for  goodness'  sake  come  away,  then  !  Is  that  dreadful  bore  coming  ? 
If  once  he  gets  along  side  of  you,  you  are  in  for  half  an  hour  "  will  be  the 
remark  of  some  yoimg  captain  of  the  present  time  on  seeing  you  enter  the 
aub. 

In  the  middle  of  his  entry  on  October  22  he  suddenly  breaks 
off  into  a  skit  on  a  debate  in  the  House  of  Lords  : 

House  of  Lords  ...  in  answer  to  questions  put  by  the  .  .  .  of  .  .  ,  replied 
that  the  noble  marquis  seemed  to  take  a  special  delight  in  asking  questions 
which  he  knew  he  (.  .  .)  could  not  answer.  He  could  say  he  had  given  a 
deal  of  time  and  attention  to  the  aiJairs  of  the  Soudan,  but  he  frankly  acknow- 
ledged that  the  names  of  places  and  people  were  so  mixed  up  that  it  was 
impossible  to  get  a  true  view  of  the  case  (a  laugh).  The  noble  Marquis  asked 
what  the  policy  of  His  Majesty's  Government  was  ?  It  was  as  if  he  asked 
the  policy  of  a  log  floating  down  stream  ;  it  was  going  to  the  sea,  as  any  one 
who  had  an  ounce  of  brains  could  see.  Well,  that  was  the  policy  of  it,  only 
it  was  a  decided  policy  and  a  straightforward  one  to  drift  along  and  take 
advantage  of  every  circumstance.     His  Lordship  deprecated  the  frequent 


310  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

questioning  on  subjects  which,  as  His  Lordship  had  said,  he  knew  nothing 
about  and  further  did  not  care  to  know  anything  about. 

His  indignation  with  the  Government  is  more  serious  :  "  I 
should  be  an  angel  (which  I  am  not  needless  to  say)  if  I  was  not 
rabid  with  Her  Majesty's  Government,"  he  writes;  and  this 
brings  us  to  his  constant  survey  of  the  position  and  his  reiteration 
time  after  time  that  the  rescue  of  the  garrison  is  the  real  object. 

As  for  "  evacuation  "  it  is  one  thing  ;  as  for  "  ratting  out  "  it  is  another, 
I  am  quite  of  advice  as  to  No.  1  but  I  will  be  no  party  to  No.  2. 

I  altogether  decline  the  imputation  that  the  projected  expedition  has  come 
out  to  relieve  me.  It  has  come  out  to  Save  our  national  honour  in  extricating 
the  garrisons  from  a  position  our  action  in  Egypt  has  placed  these  garrisons. 

My  idea  is  to  induce  Her  Majesty's  Government  to  undertake  the  extrication 
of  all  people  or  garrisons  now  hemmed  in  or  captive  and  that  if  this  is  not 
their  prograrome  then  to  resign  my  commission  and  do  what  I  can  to  attain 
it  (the  object). 

I  hope  I  am  not  going  down  to  History  as  being  the  cause  of  this  expedition 
for  I  decline  the  imputation.     The  expedition  comes  up  to  deliver  the  garrisons. 

Oh  !  our  Government,  our  Government  !  What  has  it  not  to  answer 
for?  Not  to  me  but  to  these  poor  people.  I  declare  if  I  thought  the  town 
wished  the  Mahdi,  I  would  give  up  ;   so  much  do  I  respect  free  wiU. 

And  here  is  a  remarkable  prophetic  utterance. 

We  are  a  wonderful  people ;  it  was  never  our  Government  which  made  us 
a  great  nation ;  our  Government  has  been  ever  the  drag  on  our  wheels.  It 
is  of  course  on  the  cards  that  Kartoum  is  taken  under  the  nose  of  the  expedi- 
tionary force  which  will  be  just  too  late. 

Although  they  occur  again  and  again  with  frequency  we  will 
only  give  one  more  of  these  emphatic  statements. 

It  may  be  urged  I  was  named  Governor-General  "  in  order  to  carry  out  the 
evacuation  of  the  Soudan  ■■  and  that  I  am  bound  to  carry  that  out,  which  is 
quite  correct,  but  I  was  named  for  Evacuation  of  Soudan,  not  to  run  away  from 
Kartoum  and  leave  the  garrisons  elsewhere  to  their  fate. 

Of  course,  as  he  explains  more  than  once,  if  it  were  a  question 
of  saving  his  skin  he  could  easily  have  escaped. 

As  for  the  Mahdi,  Gordon's  opinion  of  him  is  lowered  when  he 
hears  that  he  puts  pepper  under  his  nails  and  then  when  he  receives 
visitors  touches  his  eyes  and  weeps  copiously. 

I  must  confess  that  the  pepper  business  has  sickened  me  ;  I  had  hitherto 
hoped  I  had  to  do  with  a  regular  fanatic,  who  believed  in  his  mission,  but 
when  one  comes  to  pepper  in  the  finger  nails,  it  is  rather  humiliating  to  havQ 
to  succumb  to  him  and  somehow  I  have  the  belief  that  I  shall  not  have  to  do 


GENERAL  GORDON  311 

so.  One  cannot  help  being  amtised  at  this  pepper  business.  Those  who 
come  in  for  pardon  come  in  on  their  knees  with  a  halter  round  their  neck. 
The  Mahdi  rises  having  scratched  his  eyes  and  obtained  a  copious  flow  of 
tears  and  takes  off  his  halter  !  As  the  production  of  tears  is  generally  con- 
sidered the  proof  of  sincerity  I  would  recommend  the  Mahdi 'a  recipe  to 
Cabinet  Ministers  justifying  some  job. 

But  speaking  as  a  soldier,  he  says  : 

From  a  professional  military  point  of  view  and  speaking  materially  I  wish 
I  was  the  Mahdi  and  I  would  laugh  at  all  Europe. 

Spies  and  stragglers  were  constantly  coming  over  from  the 
Mahdi  with  information,  often  not  very  reliable. 

From  what  the  sergeant  major  says,  it  appears  that  I  am  not  more  liked 
by  the  Mahdi  than  I  am  elsewhere — a  nuisance  !   and  a  bore  ! 

A  horse  escaped  from  the  Arabs,  formerly  belonging  to  the  Government. 
It  gave  no  information,  but  from  its  action  may  be  supposed  not  to  believe 
the  Mahdi, 

He  makes  the  best  of  his  Egyptian  garrison,  although  they  are 
often  exasperating. 

I  declare  my  people  do  in  a  feeble  way  what  is  wanted,  and  do  not  deserve 
the  character  of  cowards  ;  they  bear  defeat  far  better  than  other  peoples 
and  they  are  good  tempered  over  it.  We  English  are  the  cream,  all  acknow- 
ledge that,  but  we  will  not  exist  on  two  dates  a  day  as  these  men  do,  without 
a  mmmur. 

I  boxed  the  telegraph  clerk's  ear  for  not  giving  me  the  telegram  last  night 
(after  repeated  orders  that  no  consideration  was  to  prevent  his  coming  to 
me)  ;  and  then  as  my  conscience  pricked  me  I  gave  him  5  dollars.  He  said 
he  did  not  mind  if  I  killed  him — I  was  his  father  (a  chocolate-coloured  youth 
of  twenty).  I  know  all  this  is  brutal — abrutissant  as  Hansall  calls  it — but 
what  is  one  to  do  ?  If  you  cut  their  pay  you  hurt  their  families.  I  am  an 
advocate  for  sTimmary  and  quick  punishment  which  hurts  only  the  defaulter. 

It  is  really  amusing  to  find  (when  one  can  scarcely  call  one's  life  one's  own) 
one's  servant  already  with  one  wife  (which  most  men  find  is  enough)  coming 
and  asking  leave  for  three  days  to  take  another  wife. 

The  question  of  trusting  people  was  of  course  always  coming 
up.     He  generalises  on  it  in  the  following  way  : 

There  is  one  great  question,  and  if  you  know  a  person,  say  K,  is  faithless 
and  is  seeking  his  own,  ought  one  to  be  down  on  him  ?  We  have  an  example 
in  our  Lord.  He  knew  Judas  was  going  to  betray  Him  ;  from  which  I  infer, 
if  we  know  even  that  K  is  going  to  rat  or  be  faithless  unless  he  K  gives  positive 
proof  of  such  intention,  we  ought  to  treat  K  as  J  of  whom  we  have  no  sus- 
picion of  treachery.  I  am  inclined  (satanically  I  own)  to  distrust  everyone 
i.e.  I  trust  every  one.     I  believe  that  circumstances  may  arise  when  self 


312  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

interest  will  almost  compel  your  nearest  relative  to  betray  you  to  some 
extent.  Man  is  an  essentially  treacherous  animal ;  and  although  the  psalmist 
said  in  his  haste  "  all  men  are  liars  "  I  think  he  might  have  said  the  same  at 
his  leisure. 

On  the  subject  of  fear  he  gives  an  opinion  very  different  from 
the  popular  clap-trap  generally  expressed  on  the  subject. 

During  our  blockade  we  have  often  discussed  the  question  of  being  fright- 
ened which,  in  the  world's  view  a  man  should  never  be.  For  my  part  I  am 
always  frightened  and  very  much  so.  I  fear  the  future  of  aU  engagements. 
It  is  not  the  fear  of  death  ;  that  is  past,  thank  God  ;  but  I  fear  defeat  and  its 
consequences.  I  do  not  believe  a  bit  in  the  calm  tmmoved  man.  I  think 
it  is  only  he  does  not  show  it  outwardly.  Thence  I  conclude  no  commander 
of  forces  ought  to  live  closely  in  relation  with  his  subordinates  who  watch  him 
like  lynxes,  for  there  is  no  contagion  equal  to  that  of  fear. 

By  the  following  entry  he  does  not  appear  to  suffer  from  home- 
sickness : 

I  dwell  on  the  joy  of  never  seeing  Great  Britain  again  with  its  horrid  weari- 
some dinner  parties  and  miseries.  How  we  can  put  up  with  those  things 
passes  my  imagination.  It  is  a  perfect  bondage.  At  those  dinner  parties 
we  are  all  in  masks  saying  what  we  do  not  believe,  eating'and  drinking  things 
we  do  not  want  and  then  abusing  one  another.  I  woiild  sooner  live  like  a 
Dervish  with  the  Mahdi  than  go  out  to  dinner  every  night  in  London. 

The  Arab  attacks  become  more  frequent ;  more  often  as 
November  passes  does  Gordon  realise  the  closing  in  of  the  walls. 
The  steamer  Abbas  is  lost,  with  Colonel  Stewart  on  board — ^a 
catastrophe  which  haunts  liim. 

Nov.  15.     If  not  relieved  for  a  month  our  food  supply  fails. 
Nov.  16.     If  we  do  get  out  of  this  mess  it  is  a  miracle. 

Almost  the  worst  side  of  his  terrible  position  was  that  he  had 
no  one  whom  he  could  trust.  He  talks  of  "  volleys  of  hes," 
"  tisstues  of  lies,"  and  an  adjutant-major  who  "  told  me  two  cold 
lies  in  two  days  so  I  bundled  him  out."    He  says  : 

What  has  been  the  painful  position  for  me  is  that  there  is  not  one  person 
on  whom  I  can  rely.  .  .  .  My  patience  is  almost  exhausted  with  this  con- 
tinuous apparently  never  ending  trial ;  there  is  not  one  department  which  I 
have  not  to  superintend  as  closely  as  if  I  was  its  direct  head. 

Dec.  11.  The  Arabs  fired  three  shells  at  the  Palace  from  Goba  ;  two  went 
into  the  water,  one  passed  over  the  palace.  This  always  irritates  me,  for 
it  is  so  personal  and  from  one's  own  soldiers  too  !  It  is  not  very  pleasant 
also  to  feel  at  any  moment  you  may  have  a  shell  in  yoxir  room,  for  the  creatixrea 
fire  at  all  hours. 


GENERAL   GORDON  313 

Dec.  13.  If  some  effort  is  not  made  before  ten  days'  time  the  town  mill  fall.  It 
is  inexplicable  this  delay. 

The  last  entry  must  be  given  in  full. 

Dec.  14.  Arabs  fired  two  shells  at  the  Palace  this  morning  :  566  ardebs 
dhoora  (forage)  in  store ;  also  83,525  okes  of  biscuit  !  10.30  a.m.  The 
steamers  are  down  at  Omdunnan  engaging  the  Arabs  consequently  I  am  on 
tenterhooks  !  11.30  steamers  returned;  the  Bordeen  was  struck  by  a  shell 
in  her  battery  ;  we  had  only  one  man  wounded.  We  are  going  to  send  down 
the  Bordeen  to-morrow  with  this  journal.  If  I  was  in  cormnand  of  the  two 
hundred  men  of  the  Expeditionary  Force  which  are  all  that  are  necessary  for 
the  movement  I  should  stop  just  below  Halfeyeh  and  attack  the  Arabs  at 
that  place  before  I  came  on  here  to  Kartoum.  I  should  then  commimicate 
with  the  North  Fort  and  act  according  to  circimistances.  Now  mark  this 
if  the  Expeditionary  Force,  and  I  ask  for  no  more  than  two  hundred  men, 
does  not  come  in  ten  days,  the  town  may  fall ;  and  I  have  done  my  best  for  the 
honour  of  my  country.     Good  bye, 

C.  G.  Gordon 

Kliartoum  fell  on  January  26,  and  Gordon  was  killed.  The 
relief  force  under  Sir  Charles  Wilson  arrived  on  January  28,  as 
the  diary  had  foretold  "  just  too  late."  Gordon  must  have 
continued  keeping  a  journal,  but  his  record  of  the  last  act  of  the 
tragedy  is  lost. 

He  wrote  for  others  to  read.  But  how  differently  from  the 
conventional  soldier  !  The  diary  is  filled  with  shrewd  and  ex- 
cellent general  reflections  quite  apart  from  his  opinions  on  his 
particular  position.  From  its  perusal  one  certainly  does  not  get 
the  impression  of  a  gloomy  unpractical  and  rather  fanatical 
idealist ;  but  no  doubt  additional  and  perhaps  more  personal 
knowledge  can  be  gained  of  his  character  from  the  many  letters 
he  wrote. 

The  journals  were  pubhshed  in  1885  with  an  introduction  by 
A.  Egmont  Hake  and  notes  by  Sir  Henry  Gordon. 


I 


NINETEENTH    CENTURY 

MINOR   DIARIES 
GENERAL  DYOTT^ 

UNLIKE  many  soldiers  ^ho  have  kept  diaries  just  to 
record  the  incidents  of  a  particular  campaign,  Dyott 
kept  a  diary  from  the  age  of  20  till  a  year  before  he  died. 
He  was  born  in  1761  and  died  in  1846,  so  the  diary  (1781-1845) 
covers  a  period  of  sixty-four  years.  It  fills  sixteen  volumes, 
and  in  its  original  form  consists  of  about  500,000  words.  It  is 
a  good  instance  of  a  regular  and  very  full  recital  of  events  con- 
scientiously noted  by  an  honest,  unreflecting,  and  unobservant 
man.  He  calls  his  life  "  strange  and  eventful,"  but  it  is  neither ; 
it  is  just  the  ordinary  routine  of  an  active  soldier  sent  about  on 
various  duties  and  of  a  country  gentleman  in  retirement.  The 
bare  recital  of  events,  what  he  does,  where  he  goes,  whom  he 
meets,  is  practically  unrelieved  by  any  criticisms,  thoughts  or 
reflections  which  might  make  it  readable.  However,  in  so  long 
a  record  we  cannot  fail  to  get  some  personal  impression  of  the 
General  himself.  Conventional  reticence  curiously  combined 
with  a  desire  to  keep  a  full  account  of  his  hfe  in  itself  gives  us  a 
clue  to  his  character.  In  writing  he  was  thinking  of  his  family. 
He  says  : 

If  in  threescore  years  I  am  able  to  entertain  myself  and  family  with  perusing 
the  transactions  of  my  juvenile  days  (the  sole  purpose  of  this  my  journal)  I 
shall  be  perfectly  satisfied. 

And  very  much  later  he  writes,  in  beginning  a  new  volume, 
that  when  he  is  no  more,  the  journal  may  "  afford  my  children 
some  amusement  and  not  improbably  a  feeling  thought  of  their 
old  father." 

1  The  Diary  extracts  are  quoted  from  Dyott' s  Diary,  by  kind  permission  of 
Messrs.  Constable  &  Co. 

314 


GENERAL  DYOTT  315 

William  Dyott  began  service  as  a  soldier  in  Ireland ;  he  was 
for  some  years  in  the  garrison  in  Nova  Scotia,  he  saw  active 
service  in  the  West  Indies,  he  was  sent  to  Egypt,  he  travelled 
on  the  Continent,  he  took  part  in  the  ill-fated  Walcheren  Ex- 
pedition, and  in  1826  he  settled  down  in  the  home  of  his  ancestors 
at  Freeford,  in  Staffordshire.  In  his  youth  he  enjoys  himself, 
and  we  get  frequent  accounts  of  "  vastly  elegant  dinners," 
"devilish  good  suppers,"  "joyous  nights,"  "bumper  toasts," 
etc.  In  Nova  Scotia  he  makes  friends  with  Prince  William 
(afterwards  William  IV),  and  throughout  his  hfe  he  comes  in 
contact  with  royalties  who  are  always  "uncommonly  gracious" 
and  he  is  "  highly  honoured  "  on  each  occasion  by  his  intercourse 
with  them.  His  account  of  Prince  William  in  1787  is  not  impres- 
sive.    It  consists  almost  entirely  of  drinking  episodes  : 

After  supper  he  gave  five  or  six  biHnper  toasts. 

He  was  in  great  spirits  and  we  all  got  a  little  inebriated. 

There  were  just  twenty  diaed  and  we  drank  sixty  three  bottles  of  wine. 

His  Royal  Highness  whenever  a  person  did  not  fill  a  bumper  always  called 
out  '  I  see  some  of  God  Almighty's  daylight  in  that  glass.  Sir  :   banish  it.' 

Dyott  explains  in  recording  instances  of  the  Prince's  gracious- 
ness : 

I  cannot  avoid  mentioning  these  little  circumstances  :  it  is  so  very  flattering 
to  be  taken  such  particular  notice  of  by  so  great  a  person. 

However,  in  later  years,  when  William  becomes  King,  he  is 
more  critical : 

I  have  little  hesitation  in  auguring  that  William's  will  not  be  a  reign  to 
which  any  great  benefits  are  likely  to  accrue  to  the  nation  from  kingly  exertion. 

For  George  III,  to  whom  he  was  A.D.C.,  he  has  unbounded 
admiration.     But  of  George  IV  he  says  : 

A  more  accomplished  Prince  could  not  be  as  to  address  and  manner,  but 
as  King  of  a  great  empire  future  historians  will  not  have  material  to  supply 
many  princely  traits  of  a  great  man. 

At  Queen  Victoria's  accession  he  has  grave  misgivings  : 

A  very  young  Queen  coming  to  the  throne  of  this  mighty  Empire,  brought 
up  and  subject  to  the  control  of  a  weak,  capricious  mother,  surrouiided  by 
the  parent's  chosen  advisers  from  distinguished  democratick  councillors, 
gives  token  of  unpropitious  times  to  come. 

Dyott    expresses    strong    Tory    views    with    uncompromising 


316  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

vigour.  Catholic  Emancipation  and  the  Reform  movement  are 
regarded  by  him  with  horror  and  the  prospect  of  a  Repeal  of  the 
Com  Laws  rouses  him  to  indignation.  He  even  refuses  to  take 
part  in  the  celebrations  at  Lichfield  on  the  Queen's  accession 
because  the  Mayor  was  "  a  rank  radical."  He  notices  with 
regret  "  a  sad  evil  spirit  among  the  lower  orders,"  and  declares 
"  there  is  nothing  to  be  more  dreaded  than  popular  power."  He 
strongly  disapproves  of  Elizabeth  Fry's  attempts  at  prison 
reform,  and  personally  objects  at  the  Stafford  quarter  sessions 
to  the  formation  of  a  society  to  visit  prisons.  His  counter  pro- 
posal which  he  carries  is  to  erect  eight  cells  for  solitary  confine- 
ment. He  writes  :  "  It  is  my  intention  to  make  them  as  irksome 
and  lonely  to  the  individual  as  possible  in  order  to  obtain  the 
desired  effect." 

Dyott  was  very  domestic.  He  loves  being  with  his  wife  and 
children.  It  is  startHng  and  tragic,  therefore,  suddenly  to  come 
on  an  entry  in  1814  stating  that  his  wife,  who  was  an  invahd, 
wished  to  separate  from  him.  She  had  fallen  in  love  with  another 
man,  with  whom  she  eloped,  and  the  General  never  saw  her  again. 
But  it  must  have  cost  him  a  good  deal  to  note  down  this  incident, 
considering  he  never  indulges  in  any  indiscreet  expression  mth 
regard  to  his  inner  feelings.  He  says,  "  she  had  long  shown 
symptoms  of  unkindness  and  inattention  "  ;  but  he  never  noted 
it  in  his  diary.  And  except  in  connection  with  the  business  of 
the  Divorce  Bill  and  the  news  of  her  death  he  does  not  allude 
to  her  again.  His  children  are  a  great  blessing  to  him,  and  the 
careers  of  his  two  boys  are  often  referred  to.  We  hear  a  good 
deal  about  all  his  adventures,  about  his  country  hfe  and  attend- 
ance on  the  bench,  and  it  may  seem  curious  that  we  cannot  quote 
more.  But  the  General's  style  does  not  attract  or  excite.  There 
is  an  immense  quantity  of  this  sort  of  thing  : 

My  hope  of  experiencing  that  feUcity  [going  home]  appears  to  me  in  a  very 
glimmering  light ;  nor  can  I  determine  what  limits  to  fix  for  my  duration  in 
this  most  imhospitable  clime.  All  I  can  conclude  definitely  is  to  remain 
with  my  regiment  till  I  acquire  the  first  step  an  officer  can  consider  as  real 
promotion  in  the  profession  I  am  embarked  in.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
month  the  season  began  to  be  milder  and  for  the  first  four  days  of  April  the 
snow  and  frost  etc.  etc. 


We  need  not  even  conclude  the  quotation,  for  there  is  really 
no  end  to  it,  nor  can  we  cull  any  gems  from  his  foreign  travel  ; 
the  General's  artistic  side  was  not  his  strongest.     Here  is  his 


GENERAL  DYOTT  317 

description  of  one  of  the  greatest  art  galleries  in  the  world  at 
Florence : 

The  collection  of  paintings,  statues,  and  busts  extremely  numerous  and  of 
the  first  masters,  in  a  high  state  of  preservation  and  open  to  the  public  every 
day. 

But  flitting  in  a  very  odd  way  through  the  pages  of  this  tedious 
and  voluminous  journal,  or  rather  peeping  now  and  again  through 
the  heavy  curtain  of  the  General's  correct  and  conventional 
discourse,  is  a  strange  figure  never  fully  described — a  cousin, 
Miss  Bakewell.  She  is  upsetting,  annoying,  irritating,  but  she 
is  a  cousin  and  has  to  be  tolerated.  We  can  feel  the  General 
with  his  pen  trying  in  vain  to  keep  her  out  of  the  important 
chronicle  of  his  hfe.  For  a  little  more  of  Miss  Bakewell  we  would 
have  gladly  dispensed  with  negro  risings,  election  contests,  and 
even  royal  levees. 

A  series  of  some  of  the  short  references  to  this  incongruous 
person  will  show  why  our  curiosity  is  excited. 

1827.  Miss  Bakewell  is  one  of  the  most  singular  characters  I  know.  With 
much  good  sense,  much  meanness  of  disposition  and  inability  of  mind  that 
leads  her  to  acts  bordering  on  insanity,  added  to  great  vanity  and  open  at  all 
points  of  flattery  and  with  but  few  good  qualities  to  rebut  her  failings. 

1830.  We  dined  with  cousin  Bakewell  who  lives  in  a  strange  imcomfortable 
and  shabby  way. 

1832.  I  left  Miss  Bakewell  at  Freeford  and  foimd  her  on  my  return.  I 
was  not  sorry  to  be  absent  during  her  visit. 

1833.  She  was  altered  in  her  appearance  and  manner,  having  shown  no 
symptoms  of  violence  or  ill  behaviour  to  anyone. 

1835.  Miss  Bakewell  arrived.  I  sent  horses  to  meet  her  at  Burton;  a 
dreadful  torment  she  is  and  worse  than  the  plague. 

1836.  We  arrived  about  three  and  found  my  wild  cousin  in  one  of  her 
hateful  fits  of  ill  humour  and  insanity.     I  never  saw  her  more  detestable. 

1836.  Miss  Bakewell  left  us.  I  and  Eleanor  did  not  lament  the  loss  of  our 
guest.  She  is  the  most  accomplished  tiresome  being  that  nature  ever  manu- 
factured. My  poor  Eleanor  had  more  of  her  plague  and  torment  than  I  had. 
Indeed  I  would  not  have  supported  ten  hoiurs  a  day  of  such  a  repetition  of 
plague  and  pestilence. 

What  did  Miss  Bakewell  look  like,  what  did  she  say  or  do 
that  was  so  exasperating  ?  We  are  never  told.  She  was  evi- 
dently something  more  than  an  ordinary  bore.  However,  we 
welcome  her  as  forming  some  comic  rehef  in  the  otherwise  pon- 
derous memoir,  although  the  General  certainly  did  not  regard 
her  as  a  joke. 


318  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Selections  from  the  diary  were  published  in  two  volumes  in 
1907,  edited  by  Reginald  W.  Jefferey. 


FRANCES,   LADY  SHELLEY  ^ 

THE  book  entitled  Tlie  Diary  of  Frances,  Lady  Shelley 
contains  "  a  private  memento  of  scenes  and  events  that 
deeply  impressed  her."  It  really  only  just  comes  under 
the  category  of  a  diary  at  all.  The  entries  are  very  occasionally 
dated  and  very  seldom  recorded  on  the  day  itself,  and  they  are 
only  concerned  with  gossip  on  public  events,  mixed  with  social 
and  society  experiences.  She  gives  a  full  account  of  her  life 
from  her  birth  in  1787,  and  begins  the  more  or  less  contemporary 
record  in  December,  1813.  The  so-called  diary  consists  of 
memoirs  written  up  from  time  to  time,  and  from  the  subjective 
point  of  view  entirely  devoid  of  any  personal  note,  although  the 
gossip  is  practically  all  of  a  personal  character.  Lady  Shelley's 
method  is  shown  by  these  remarks,  which  occur  at  the  beginning 
of  dated  entries. 

1815.  Aug.  25.  What  an  age  since  I  last  wrote  in  my  journal.  I  must 
make  a  sort  of  pot  pourri  up  to  to-day. 

1816.  Sep.  16.  I  must  fill  up  this  interval  of  my  diary  at  leisure  and  write 
while  it  is  fresh  in  my  memory. 

The  few  attempts  she  makes  at  daily  entries  are  so  bald  that 
she  evidently  preferred  the  method  of  writing  up  periods  of  her 
experiences  at  long  intervals.  She  relates  a  great  number  of 
anecdotes.  But  many  of  the  anecdotes  and  indeed  incidents 
and  descriptions  she  gives  are  second-hand.     "  Lord  S.  told  me 

many  anecdotes  about ,"  "  Miss  S.  told  me  the  following 

anecdote,"  "  I  am  told  that,"  "  It  is  said  that,"  "  I  have  seen 

a  letter  from  Lady ,"  "  I  have  only  feebly  reproduced  Lady 

S ^'s  eloquent  and  dramatic  description  of,"  are  introductory 

phrases  of  frequent  occurrence. 

A  large  part  of  the  memoir  is  taken  up  with  enthusiastic  de- 
scriptions of  foreign  travel  in  Switzerland,  Italy,  and  Vienna. 
Lady  Shelley  had  a  good  memory  and  a  flowing  pen,  but  no 
critical  faculty,  and  absolutely  no  bite  or  grip  in  her  style.  She 
undoubtedly  came  across  a  large  number  of  celebrities.     That, 

1  The  Diary  extracts  are  quoted  from  The  Diary  oj  Frances,  Lady  SheUey, 
by  kind  permission  of  Mr.  John  Murray. 


FRANCES,   LADY   SHELLEY  319 

no  doubt,  was  what  induced  her  to  write,  and  it  is  the  account  of 
her  intimate  friendship  with  the  Duke  of  WeUington  that  made 
her  diary  worth  publishing.  But  the  ecstatic  worship  of  the 
hero  of  Waterloo  is  so  excessive  that  we  do  not  get  any  real  char- 
acter sketch.  However,  this  is  practically  the  only  part  of  the 
diary  that  is  worth  noting,  although  many  of  the  anecdotes 
about  him  are  really  quite  pointless. 

While  she  longs  to  record  his  sayings,  she  is  obKged  to  confess  ; 

Except  on  subjects  which  interest  the  Duke  such  as  war  and  politics  he 
prefers  to  Usten  rather  than  to  talk  consequently  he  seldom  says  anything 
worth  noting. 


'■O' 


I  dined  at  3  o'clock  to-day  in  order  to  ride  with  the  Duke  who  offered  to 
mount  me  on  Copenhagen.  A  charming  ride  of  two  houi's.  But  I  found 
Copenhagen  the  most  difficult  horse  to  sit  of  any  I  had  ever  ridden.  If  the 
Duke  had  not  been  there  I  should  have  been  frightened.  He  said  ' '  I  believe 
you  think  the  glory  greater  than  the  pleasure  in  riding  him." 

Mounted  as  I  was  on  the  dear  chestnut  mare  by  the  Duke's  side  I  felt 
supremely  happy  .  .  .  the  Duke  took  great  care  of  me  and  I  never  lost  him 
for  a  moment.  We  were  of  course  always  in  front ;  and  on  descending  the 
hill  we  set  off  to  gallop  rovmd  the  square  which  we  did  without  once  pulling 
up,  a  distance  of  eleven  miles.  As  usual  I  received  endless  compliments  on 
my  horsemanship. 

And  now  comes  the  moment  when  we  parted  from  the  Diike  of  Wellington 
a  short  distance  on  the  road  to  Paris  whither  the  Duke  returns.  So  deeply 
did  I  feel  the  parting  that  I  coiild  not  help  crying  but  I  do  not  think  he  saw 
me.  After  we  had  shaken  hands  for  the  last  time  Shelley  and  I  rode  back  to 
Vertus. 

Shelley  is  rather  a  shadowy  figure  in  the  diary ;  he  seems 
generally  to  be  sent  off  on  shooting  parties.  She  married  Sir 
John  Shelley  in  1807,  and  a  note  in  the  early  record  of  her  hfe 
runs  : 

There  is  one  rule  from  which  I  have  never  deviated  during  the  whole  course 
of  my  married  life.  I  made  it  a  point  never  to  interfere  in  any  way  with  my 
husband's  mode  of  life  ;  and  I  never  kept  him  from  the  society  even  of  persons 
whose  conduct  I  could  not  admire. 

In  addition  to  accounts  of  reviews,  battle-fields,  dances,  plays, 
operas,  dinner  parties,  museums  and  scenery  there  are  anecdotes 
about  the  Prince  Regent,  Princess  Charlotte,  the  Emperor  of 
Russia,  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  Talleyrand,  Metternich,  the 
Pope,  Nelson,  Byron,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  the  Duchess  of  Devon- 
shire, and  Lady  Caroline  Lamb,  to  mention  only  a  few  of  the 
great  people  she  came  across.     But  the  pen  portraits  do  not  quite 


820  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

come  off,  although  some  of  the  anecdotes  are  amusing.  Her  few 
Unes  on  Talleyrand  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  will  suffice  as  examples. 

Talleyrand  seemed  pleased  with  his  mo<  and  repeated  it  to  Madame  Perigord 
herself.  This  evidently  delighted  her  for  she  kissed  him  on  both  cheeks 
repeatedly.  Talleyrand  then  proceeded  to  feed  her  with  coffee  otit  of  his  own 
cup  and  vised  his  own  spoon  for  that  purpose.  He  is  a  frightful  object  to 
look  at ;  and  rolls  his  tongue  about  in  a  disgusting  manner  ;  in  spite  of  all 
that  the  French  ladies  find  him  irresistible. 

Sir  Walter  Scott's  first  appearance  is  not  prepossessing: 

A  club  foot  white  eyelashes  and  a  clumsy  figure.  He  has  not  any  expression 
when  his  face  is  in  repose  ;  but  upon  an  instant  some  remark  will  lighten  up 
his  whole  countenance  and  you  discover  the  man  of  genius. 

The  diary,  edited  by  Mr.  Richard  Edgcumbe,  was  published 
in  1912. 


CHARLES  ABBOT  (Lord   Colchester) 

THE  editor  of  Lord  Colchester's  diaries  states  that  "  those 
portions  which  related  to  strictly  private  or  family 
affairs  have  been  excluded  as  uninteresting  to  the  pubhc." 
Of  course  he  is  quite  wrong.  We  are  therefore  left  with  a  purely 
official  record  conscientiously  kept  from  the  time  Abbot  entered 
ParHament  in  1795,  during  his  Speakership  (1802-1817)  until 
shortly  before  his  death  in  1829. 

A  daily  record  of  this  character  is  useful  to  historians  and 
students,  but  as  a  diary  it  is  difficult  to  digest.  The  very  fact, 
however,  that  he  thought  it  worth  while  to  keep  this  careful 
register  shows  how  attentive  and  exact  he  was  in  the  discharge 
of  his  parhamentary  duties.  No  rash  judgments,  hardly  any 
criticisms,  no  note  of  enthusiasm  or  displeasure,  is  allowed  to 
creep  into  these  almost  judicial  pages. 

The  differences  in  parhamentary  manners  and  customs  only 
a  hundred  years  ago  are  striking,  when  we  find  Abbot  being  told 
soon  after  his  entry  into  the  House  that  he  was  "  disorderly  " 
in  "  wearing  his  spurs  "  as  "  none  but  county  members  were 
entitled  to  that  privilege  "  ;  or  when  we  get  the  following  account 
of  a  debate : 

1796.  May  10.  In  the  House  Fox  moved  an  Address  upon  the  state  of 
the  nation  with  regard  to  the  war.  He  spoke  from  half  past  five  till  a  quarter 
before  ten.     Mr.  Pitt  spoke  till  a  quarter  past  twelve.     Fox  replied  for  three 


ELIZABETH  FRY  321 

quarters  of  an  hour.     The  division  at  one  was  : — For  the  address  42  ;  against 
it  216. 

In  the  midst  of  debates,  divisions,  reports,  commissions,  pro- 
cedure, etc.,  he  gives  very  Httle  description  of  the  members  them- 
selves. This  seems  a  pity  when  as  an  exception  we  find  this 
very  striking  picture  of  Grattan  : 

1805.  Grattan  was  as  in  all  his  printed  speeches,  able  and  various  in  his 
topics  :  delivered  in  language  quaint  and  epigrammatic  with  occasional 
flashes  of  striking  metaphors  ;  and  in  a  manner  disgustingly  vain,  conceited 
and  afiected.  His  elocution  fluent ;  sometimes  rapid  with  strained  pauses 
and  strange  cadences  ;  his  action  violent,  throwing  his  body,  head  and  arms 
into  all  sorts  of  absurd  attitudes.  He  was  heard  with  much  attention  but 
not  always  with  admiration  even  by  his  own  friends. 

There  is  a  good  account  of  a  conversation  with  Fox  and  an 
estimate  of  Pitt  when  he  dies. 

Abbot  is  evidently  greatly  impressed  by  royalty ;  remarks  and 
conversations  of  the  most  commonplace  description  are  care- 
fully entered  ;  and  the  health  symptoms  of  George  III  and 
George  IV  are  given  continually  in  the   most  elaborate  detail. 

There  is  a  very  long  account  of  the  dinner  given  by  the  Prince 
Regent  to  the  exiled  King  of  France  in  1811,  at  which  a  table  two 
hundred  feet  long  was  decorated  with  a  river  of  water  with  little 
gudgeon  in  it,  wliich  widened  towards  the  Prince's  end,  the  water 
falling  by  cascades  into  a  lake  surrounded  by  vases  burning 
perfumes  under  the  arches  of  a  colonnade  round  the  lake. 

The  diary  contains  weather  notes  ;  storms,  temperature  and 
floods   are   recorded. 

When  he  goes  to  Italy  after  his  retirement  from  the  Speaker- 
ship he  continues  to  keep  a  diary.  But  the  tone  is  the  same. 
The  politics  of  Italy  and  Europe  occupy  his  attention,  the  eminent 
people  he  meets  are  never  described  or  criticised,  and  his  inter- 
view with  the  Pope  is  noted  in  the  usual  ceremonial  manner. 

The  diary,  in  fact,  as  we  have  it  in  the  three  volumes  published 
in  1861,  is  not  human  but  official. 


ELIZABETH  FRY 

ROM  before  the  age  of  16  up  to  the  end  of  her  life  Elizabeth 
Fry  kept  a  journal.     She  wrote  in  it  intermittently  and 
confined   her  entries   very  largely  to   religious   reflections 
md  prayers.     It  is  described  as  "  the  outpourings  of  her  heart, 
21 


: 


322  ENGLISH   DIARIES  If 

the  communings  between  God  and  her  own  soul,"  and  she  herself 
describes  it  in  the  first  year  as  "  a  httle  friend  to  my  heart,    and 
says,  "  it  is  next  to  communicating  my  feehngs  to  another  per- 
son ..  .  it  is  most  comfortable  to  read  it  over  and^  see  the 
different  workings  of  my  heart  and  soul,"  and  again :       writmg 
my  journal  is  to  me  expressing  the  feehngs  of  my  heart  dunng 
the  day  "     It  was  kept  in  fact  for  self-disciphnary  purposes   and 
from  time  to  time  she  does  read  it  over.     Ehzabeth  Fry's  abnor- 
maUy  active  and  successful  career  as  a  prison  r/o^^^^^^.^^  ^^" 
known.     In  addition  to  a  vast  pubUc  correspondence  Ehzabeth 
Fry  found  time  to  write  often  at  considerable  length  m  her  diary. 
SuperficiaUy   such   a   journal   as   this   resembles   many   other 
journals  of  Quakers  and  di^dnes.     But  in  the  midst  of  the  ejacu- 
latory  appeals  there  is  a  great  deal  of  very  searching  self-examina- 
tion and  some  thoughtful  meditations  on  hfe.     Apart  from  the 
extreme  seriousness  of  the  tone,  the  high-minded  tenacity  ot 
purpose  makes  the  reader  conscious  of  a  masterful  personahty 
lifted  perhaps  rather  above  the  reach  of  the  ordinary  mortal,  yet 
very  human.     In  addition  to  prayer,  descriptions  of  '  meeting 
and  references  to  her  work,  there  is  frequent  mention  of  the 
numberless    members    of    her    family.     Besides    having    eleven 
cMldren  of  her  own,  she  herself  was  one  of  twelve.     Her  health 
also  occupies  her  attention.  ,    ^    -,    4.    „^j 

She  began  diary  writing  at  a  very  early  age,  but  destroyed 
the  earnest  attempts.  She  was  not  brought  up  as  a  strict  Quaker, 
although  the  Gurneys  were  members  of  the  Society  of  Friends. 
In  the  earhest  entries,  which  are  the  most  human,  we  find  the 
young  girl  bent  on  self-disciphne  and  questiomng  all  her  thoughts 

and  actions. 

When  she  is  16,  in  1797,  she  writes  : 

I  feel  by  experience  how  much  entering  into  the  world  hurts  me  ;  worldly 
company  I  thL  materially  injures,  it  excites  a  false  stimulus  such  a  love  of 
pomp  pride,  vanity,  jealosy  and  ambition  ;  it  leads  to  thmk  about  dress  and 
sucT^rifles  ;nd  when  out  of  it  we  fly  to  novels  and  scandal  or  something  of 
that  kind  for  entertainment. 

And  the  following  year: 

I  have  known  my  faults  and  not  corrected  them  and  now  I  am  d^t^rmin^ 
I  wm  IncVmore  try  with  redoubled  ardour  to  overcome  my  wicked  mclma- 
L^;  I  m^t  not  flirt ;  I  must  not  ever  be  out  of  temper  with  the  children 
I  Zst  norcontradict  without  a  cause  ;  I  must  not  mmnp  when  my  sisters  a« 
iS?and  I  am  not ;  I  must  not  allow  myself  to  be  angry  ;  I  must  not  exagger. 
ate  wMch  iTm  indined  to  do.  I  must  not  give  way  to  luxury  ;  I  must  no 
l^ilT^  IZ,  I  must  try  to  give  way  to  every  good  feehng  and  overcome 
every  bad. 


ELIZABETH  FRY  823 

My  mind  has  by  degrees  flown  from  religion.  I  rode  to  Norwich  and  had  a 
very  serious  ride  there ;  but  meeting,  and  being  looked  at  with  apparent 
admiration  by  some  ofificers  brought  on  vanity  ;  and  I  came  home  full  of  the 
world  as  I  went  to  town  full  of  heaven. 

Trifles  occupy  me  far  too  much  such  as  dress  etc.  etc.  I  fiind  it  easier  to 
acknowledge  my  vices  than  my  follies. 

I  went  to  the  Oratorio,  I  enjoyed  it  but  spoke  sadly  at  random,  what  a  bad 
habit ! 

I  feel  I  am  a  contemptible  fine  lady.  May  I  be  preserved  from  continuing 
so.  .  .  . 

I  am  more  cross,  more  proud,  more  vain,  more  extravagant.  I  lay  it  to  my 
great  love  of  gaiety  and  the  world.  I  feel,  I  know  I  am  falling.  I  do  believe 
if  I  had  a  little  true  religion  I  should  have  a  greater  support  than  I  have  now. 

I  am  a  bubble  without  reason  without  beauty  of  mind  or  person.  I  am  a 
fool.     I  daily  fall  lower  in  my  own  estimation. 

The  preaching  of  WiUiam  Savery  in  1798  makes  a  deep  im- 
pression on  her : 

He  seemed  to  me  to  overflow  with  true  religion  and  to  be  humble  and  yet  a 
man  of  great  abilities.  If  I  see  William  Savery  I  shall  not  I  doubt  be  over 
fond  of  gaieties. 

This  was  regarded  as  her  conversion,  and  in  time  she  became 
a  strict  Friend.  Music  and  dancing  had  not  been  prohibited 
in  her  education,  but  gradually  she  begins  to  express  doubt 
about  them  : 

We  went  to  hear  the  band  which  I  am  sorry  for  as  I  cannot  get  courage  to 
tell  my  father,  I  wish  I  had  not  gone. 

The  danger  of  dancing  I  find  is  throwing  me  oS  my  centre  ;  at  times  when 
dancing  I  know  that  I  have  not  reason  left  but  that  I  do  things  which  in  calm 
moments  I  miist  repent  of. 

I  do  not  approve  of  singing  in  company  as  it  leads  to  vanity  and  dissipation 
of  mind.  ...  I  shoxild  be  sorry  quite  to  give  up  singing. 

She  found  difficulty  in  adopting  the  correct  language  and 
saying  "  thee  "  and  "  thou  "  and  she  writes  :  "  I  do  not  feel 
little  scruples  of  that  importance  that  some  other  persons  do." 
Although  no  one  throughout  her  life  could  have  been  a  more 
devoted  Quaker,  she  is  not  bhnd  to  their  faults,  and  in  1830  she 
writes  :  "  Bitter  experience  has  proved  to  me  that  Friends  do 
rest  too  much  on  externals." 

When  she  was  20  she  married  Joseph  Fry.  In  her  journal 
she  weighs  the  pros  and  cons  of  marriage  from  the  point  of 
view  of  spiritual  duty,  and  decides  in  favour  of  it. 


824  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

There  is  much  more  about  her  domestic  Ufe  in  the  diary  than 
about  her  public  hfe,  and  we  are  brought  right  into  the  atmo- 
sphere of  a  large  Quaker  household.  After  the  birth  of  her  eldest 
child  she  writes  : 

I  much  wish  to  avoid  my  mother  in  law's  very  "  cotting  "  plan,  for  a  degree 
of  hardiness  I  think  most  desirable — I  think  being  too  careful  and  tender 
really  make  them  more  subject  to  indisposition. 

A  few  other  references  to  her  children  may  be  given  ; 

I  am  at  home  alone  with  my  nine  children,  a  great  and  very  precious  charge ; 
at  times  they  appear  too  much  for  me  at  others  I  greatly  enjoy  them. 

AU  our  beloved  children  dined  with  us.  It  really  was  to  me  a  beautiful 
sight.  Sixteen  roim.d  our  table  happy  in  each  other,  a  strong  tie  of  love 
amidst  the  brothers  and  sisters  and  much  united  to  us  their  father  and  mother, 
,  .  .  When  the  cloth  was  removed  after  dinner  I  believed  it  my  duty  to  kneel 
down  and  very  fervently  to  pray  and  to  retiirn  thanks  to  my  God  for  all  these 
most  tenderly  beloved  ones.  .  .  .  After  this  solemn  time  thirteen  of  the  sweet 
dear  grandchildren  came  m. 

Mrs.  Fry  has  servant  worries  and  mentions  them  more  than 
once. 

Tried  by  my  servants  appearing  dissatisfied  with  what  I  believe  to  be  liberal 
things  ...  I  know  no  family  who  allows  exactly  the  same  indulgences  and 
few  who  give  the  same  high  wages  and  yet  I  do  not  know  of  anyone  so  often 
grieved  by  the  discontents  of  servants  as  myself. 

There  are  many  descriptions  of  "  meeting  "  and  of  her  praying 
and  of  death-bed  scenes.  We  may  pick  out  of  the  paragraphs  of 
prayer,  resolutions  and  self-examination  one  or  two  phrases  which 
will  show  that  Ehzabeth  Fry  did  not,  hke  some  others,  find  relief 
in  just  the  repetition  of  conventional  rehgious  formulae  : 

I  want  order  ;    I  believe  it  difficult  to  obtain  but  yet  with  perseverance  i 
attainable.     The  first  way  to  obtain  it  appears  to  me  to  try  to  prevent  my 
thoughts  from  rambling  and  to  keep  as  steadily  as  possible  to  the  object  in| 
view. 

I  am  fearful  of  self  confidence;  I  feel  it  so  different  to  the  confidence  placed} 
in  an  All  wise  Director. 

From  a  great  fear  of  hurting  others  I  feel,  though  I  believe  it  is  not  very! 
apparent,  a  bowing  to  their  opinions  and  not  openly  professing  my  own  which| 
tries  me. 

Her  public  work  with  regard  to  prison  reform  and  prisonj 
schools  involved  a  great  deal  of  correspondence  from  all  parts! 
of  the  world,  and  it  does  not  figure  so  prominently  therefore  inj 


ELIZABETH  FRY  325 

her  private  diary.  But  a  fev  extracts  may  be  given,  some  of 
which  show  how  much  she  dishked  the  pubhcity  and  prominence 
into  which  her  work  brought  her. 

1817.  I  have  lately  been  much  occupied  in  forming  a  school  in  Newgate 
for  the  children  of  the  poor  prisoners  as  well  as  the  yoimg  criminals  which 
has  brought  much  peace  and  satisfaction  with  it. 

Our  Newgate  visiting  could  no  longer  be  kept  secret,  which  I  endeavoured 
that  it  should  be  and  therefore  I  am  exposed  to  praise  that  I  do  not  the  least 
deserve  ;  also  to  some  unpleasant  humiliations — for  in  trying  to  obtain 
helpers  I  must  be  subject  to  their  various  opinions  ;  and  also  being  obliged 
to  confer  at  times  with  strangers  and  men  in  authority  is  to  me  a  very  unplea- 
sant necessity. 

My  having  been  brought  publicly  forward  in  the  newspapers,  respecting 
what  I  have  been  instrumental  in  doing  at  Newgate  has  brought  some  anxiety 
with  it ;  in  the  first  place  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  that  it  may  neither  raise 
me  too  high  nor  cast  me  too  low,  that  having  what  may  appear  my  good  works, 
thus  published,  may  never  lead  me  or  others  to  give  either  the  praise  or  glory 
where  it  is  not  due. 

The  prison  and  myself  are  become  quite  a  show  which  is  a  very  serious  thing 
in  many  points. 

1818.  When  the  Queen  came  to  speak  to  me  which  she  did  very  kindly  there 
was  I  am  told  a  general  clap.  I  think  I  may  say  this  hardly  raised  me  at 
all.  ... 

1824.  The  burden  and  perplexity  of  the  opposition  to  improvement  in 
prisons  is  almost  too  much  for  me  ;  it  is  so  much  against  my  nature  to  take 
my  own  defence  or  even  that  of  the  cause  in  which  I  am  interested  into  my 
own  hands. 

1831.  My  interest  in  the  catise  of  prisons  remains  strong  and  my  zeal 
unabated  ;  though  it  is  curious  to  observe  how  much  less  is  felt  about  it  by 
the  public  generally.  How  little  it  would  answer  in  these  important  duties 
to  be  much  aSected  by  the  good  or  bad  opinion  of  man. 

She  has  to  submit  to  having  her  portrait  painted,  but  she 
yields  very  reluctantly  : 

It  is  not  altogether  what  I  like  or  approve  ;  it  is  making  too  much  of  this 
poor  tabernacle  and  rather  exalting  that  part  in  us  which  should  be  laid  low 
and  kept  low. 

She  expresses  on  several  occasions  grave  doubts  about  trjdng 
to  see  royalty  and  attending  dinners  and  functions,  "  how  far 
it  was  safe  for  me  thus  to  be  cast  among  the  great  of  this  world  "  ; 
and  again,  "  how  far  the  expensive  dinner  is  right  to  give,"  and 
she  prevents  the  Lord  Mayor  on  one  occasion  from  proposing 
toasts.  The  stir  she  caused  brought  her  inevitably  very  much 
to  the  front,  and  the  way  she  accepted  the  situation  shows  that 
she  never  had  her  head  turned  by  fame  and  success.     She  gives 


326  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

an  account  of  conversations  she  had  at  dinner  with  Sir  Robert 
Peel  and  Prince  Albert,  when  she  made  the  most  of  her  oppor- 
tunities, and  also  of  the  visit  of  the  King  of  Prussia  to  Newgate 
^vith  whom  she  proceeded  arm  in  arm  through  the  prison.  And 
in  the  midst  of  the  royal  courtiers  and  city  functionaries  she 
prays  : 

I  believed  it  my  duty  to  kneel  down  before  this  most  curious  interesting 
and  mixed  company  for  I  felt  my  God  must  be  served  the  same  everywhere 
and  amongst  aU  people,  whatever  reproach  it  brought  me  mto.  | 

And  afterwards  the  King  has  dinner  with  her  and  her  femily 
at  Upton  Lane,  and  "  appeared  to^^enjoy  his  dinner  perfectly 
at  his  ease  and  very  happy  with  us." 

Her  great  vitahty  and  energy  (for  hers  was  far  more  an  active 
than  reflective  temperament)  is  shown  in  all  she  writes.  1 
have  got  many  things  stirring  "  is  an  entry  m  1843,  that  is  to 
say  when  she  was  63,  when  although  ill  and  resting  at  Sandgate 
she  says  that  a  place  "  so  remarkably  void  of  objects  does  not 
suit  my  active  mind  .  .  .  this  place  is  unusually  dull  to  me. 

Though  imbued  to  a  great  extent  with  characteristic  Quaker 
optimism,  she  has  her  moments  of  depression,  especially  during 
periods  of  illness  and  family  bereavements.  On  New  Years 
Day,  1843,  she  writes  : 

Another  year  is  closed  and  passed  never  to  return.  It  appears  to  me  that 
mine  is  rather  a  rapid  descent  into  the  valley  of  old  age. 

There  are  accounts  of  her  journeys  abroad,  specially  in  Paris 
and  in  the  Channel  Islands,  but  they  are  never  very  descriptive 
or  critical.  She  is  not  writing  a  narrative,  she  is  communing 
with  herself  and  only  refers  to  events  in  so  far  as  they  affect 
her  at  the  moment.  Strict  as  she  was  in  the  rehgious  sense, 
many  instances  might  be  quoted  of  her  tolerance  and  broad- 

mindedness.  ,        , 

She  does  not  often  make  any  comment  on  pubhc  events,  but  tne 
following  is  her  description  of  the  state  of  affairs  in  1840  ; 

PoUtical  commotion  about  the  country-riots  in  Wales-much  religious 
stir  in  the  Church  of  England,  numbers  of  persons  becommg  much  the  same 
as  Roman  Catholics-Popish  doctrines  preached  openly  m  many  of  our 
churches— infidel  principles,  in  the  form  of  Socialism,  gammg  ground. 

The  last  entry  in  her  journal  was  written  on  September  16, 
1845  •  she  died  on  October  12  in  the  same  year. 

The  journal  is  copiously  quoted  in  the  biography  brought  out 
by  her  daughters  in  1847. 


THE  RIGHT  HON.   GEORGE  ROSE  327 


THE  RIGHT  HON.   GEORGE  ROSE 

GEORGE  ROSE'S  diary  is  exclusively  and  somewhat 
dryly  concerned  with  public  affairs.  He  was  a  Member 
of  Parliament  who  held  several  minor  appointments, 
and  his  diaries  and  correspondence  are  of  historical  importance 
owing  to  his  very  close  intimacy  with  Pitt,  who  figures,  so  to 
speak,  as  the  hero  of  his  diary,  which  covers  the  years  1800  to 
1811,  with  the  exception  of  1805,  which  is  a  blank.  When  Pitt 
dies  in  1806  he  writes  : 

Intending  these  notes  merely  as  memoranda  of  occvirrences  it  is  not  my 
intention  to  attempt  to  express  the  agony  of  my  mind  on  the  incalculable 
loss  I  have  sustained  ;  severe  and  irreparable  as  it  is  and  deeply  as  it  will 
be  felt  by  me  to  the  latest  hour  of  my  life  I  bow  with  resignation  to  the  Power 
that  has  inflicted  it. 

And  after  the  funeral : 

On  my  return  to  my  own  house  I  indulged  myself  with  what  has  been  very 
frequently  the  occupation  of  my  mind  during  the  last  five  weeks  and  will  not 
unfrequently  employ  it  during  the  remainder  of  my  life  ;  the  reflection  on  the 
character  and  talents  of  my  deceased  friend  and  the  loss  I  have  sustained  in 
his  death,  banishing  entirely  every  consideration  of  an  interested  nature. 

These  extracts  are  quoted  as  the  only  instance  in  which  any 
note  of  personal  emotion  or  sentiment  is  allowed  to  creep  into  his 
record.  But  we  can  detect  very  unusual  disinterestedness,  con- 
scientiousness and  modesty  in  Rose  when  Perceval  asks  him  to 
be  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  and  he  refuses,  feehng  he  can 
discharge  his  duty  better  by  remaining  at  the  Board  of  Trade. 
He  fears  he  might  be  called  upon  in  Perceval's  absence  to  lead 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  he  writes  :  "To  this  most  important 
duty  I  feel  myself  from  want  of  eloquence  quite  unequal." 

His  conversations  with  George  III  are  fully  reported.  He 
rides  with  him,  and  the  little  touches  with  regard  to  their  horses, 
the  scenery  and  the  weather  give  his  descriptions  a  good  deal  of 
life.  One  of  his  Majesty's  observations  towards  the  end  of  a 
ride  near  Lyndhurst  may  be  quoted : 

I  thank  God  there  is  but  one  of  my  children  who  wants  courage ;  and  I 
will  not  name  him  because  he  is  to  succeed  me. 

Rose  is  "  deeply  pained  by  this  remark." 

The  editor  of  the  diaries  and  correspondence,  published  in  1860, 
says  Rose  was  not  "  at  any  time  addicted  to  pleasantries,  anec- 


328  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

dotes  or  gossip,"  nor  did  he  "  take  much  notice  of  what  was 
passing  round  him."  He  had  not  the  quahties,  in  fact,  to  make 
a  good  diarist.     His  memoranda  were  written  for  his  son. 


LADY  NUGENT 

y'  AMAICA  One  Hundred  Years  Ago  is  not  an  alluring  title  for 
a  book.  One  would  not  immediately  snatch  a  volume  with 
that  name  from  the  shelf  of  a  hbrary.  And  yet  Lady  Nugent's 
journal,  of  which  this  is  the  sub-title,  is  most  entertaining. 
We  have  here  a  very  good  instance  of  how  little  the  subject  matters 
if  the  diarist  is  able  to  impart  to  diary  entries  the  natural  spon- 
taneity which  comes  from  sympathetic  powers  of  observation. 
Lady  Nugent  had  little  pretensions  from  the  Hterary  point  of 
view,  although,  she  wrote  a  few  verses  ;  she  is  rather  sentimental 
and  intensely  domestic,  but  she  is  able  in  quite  a  skilful  though 
perfectly  natural  way  to  make  each  day  tell  its  story. 

Sir  George  Nugent,  her  husband,  was  appointed  Lieutenant- 
Governor  and  Commander-in-Chief  in  Jamaica  in  1801,  where 
he  remained  till  the  beginning  of  1806.  Lady  Nugent  accompanied 
him  and  remained  there  till  June,  1805.  She  kept  a  regular 
diary  during  this  period,  and  there  are  some  irregular  entries  (up 
to  1814)  after  she  returned  to  England,  and  also  in  India  where 
Sir  George  was  Commander-in-Chief.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
Brigadier-General  Skinner  of  New  Jersey,  and  was  born  about 
1771,  when  New  Jersey  was  still  under  the  British  Crown.  Irish, 
Scotch,  as  well  as  Dutch  blood  flowed  in  her  veins. 

She  wrote  for  her  children  and  for  her  own  amusement,  and  the 

idea  of  publishing  her  diary  never  entered  her  head.     It  was 

first  privately  printed  after  her  death,  and  pubHshed  in  1907. 

The  appointment  to  Jamaica  does  not  smile  on  her ;   she  says  : 

I  would  greatly  have  preferred  remaining  (at  Hampstead)  instead  of 
playing  the  Governor's  lady  to  the  blackies :  but  we  are  soldiers  and  must 
have  no  will  of  our  own. 

The  voyage  out  is  graphically  described  with  all  its  incidents 
and  discomforts.  She  refers  throughout  to  her  husband,  whom 
she  calls  "  General  N,"  or  "my  dear  N,"  with  the  greatest  affec- 
tion, and  often  gets  into  a  state  about  his  health.  She  finds  it 
very  hot  on  their  arrival : 


LADY  NUGENT  329 

All  the  gentlemen,  civil  and  military  were  introduced  to  me  before  we  sat 
down  ;  I  scarce  recollect  the  name  or  visage  of  any  of  them  only  they  all 
looked  very  bilious  and  very  warm.  One  gentleman  seemed  to  suffer  exceed- 
ingly ;  for  in  spite  of  his  constant  mopping  the  perspiration  stood  like  drops 
of  crystal  on  his  face  the  whole  time  we  were  at  dinner. 

I  sat  between  Lord  B  and  Colonel  MacMurdo,  the  latter  actually  dripping 
with  perspiration.  He  saw  me  looking  at  the  drops  as  they  fell  from  his 
forehead,  poor  man  !    and  this  increased  them  almost  to  a  cascade. 

She  is  not  very  complimentary  about  her  husband's  predecessor, 
who  is  still  on  the  island. 

I  wish  Lord  B  would  wash  his  hands  and  use  a  nail  brush  for  the  black 
edges  of  his  naUs  really  make  me  sick.  He  has,  besides,  an  extraordinary 
propensity  to  dip  his  fingers  into  every  dish.  Yesterday  he  absolutely  helped 
himself  to  some  fricass6e  with  his  dirtj'  finger  and  thumb. 

I  behaved  very  ill,  having  placed  an  Aide-de-camp  between  me  and  his 
lordship  ;  for  really  his  hands  were  so  dirty  I  co\ild  not  have  eaten  anything 
had  he  been  nearer. 

The  feasts  and  banquets  were  sometimes  a  high  trial  to  her. 
One  or  two  of  her  comments  on  the  food  may  be  given. 

I  don't  wonder  now  at  the  fever  the  people  suffer  from  here — such  eating 
and  drinking  I  never  saw  !  Such  loads  of  all  sorts  of  high,  rich,  seasoned 
things,  and  really  gallons  of  wine  and  mixed  liquors  as  they  drink  !  I  observed 
some  of  the  party  to-day  eat  of  late  breakfasts  as  if  they  had  never  eaten 
before — a  dish  of  tea,  another  of  coffee,  a  bumper  of  claret,  another  large  one 
of  hock  negus  ;  then  Madeira,  sangatee,  hot  and  cold  meat,  stews  and  fries, 
hot  and  cold  fish,  pickled  and  plain,  peppers,  ginger  sweetmeats,  acid  fruit, 
sweet  jellies — in  short  it  was  all  as  astonishing  as  it  was  disgusting. 

I  am  not  astonished  at  the  general  ill  health  of  the  men  in  this  country, 
for  they  really  eat  like  cormorants  and  drink  like  porpoises. 

Dances  are  very  frequent,  and  all  officials  join  in  them.  After 
a  formal  ball,  at  which  she  had  to  dance  with  members  of  the 
Council,  etc.,  she  ends  up  : 

But  after  supper  I  forgot  all  my  dignity  and  with  aU  my  heart  joined  in  a 
Scotch  reel — Many  followed  my  example  and  the  ball  concluded  merrily. 

A  very  large  party  in  the  evening  and  the  candidates  for  the  Chief  Justices 
situation  particularly  smiling  and  attentive.  Some  of  them  danced  merrily 
on  the  occasion  and  particularly  when  they  were  my  partners. 

The  round  of  entertainments  and  her  other  official  duties  she 
often  finds  very  tiring,  and  she  notes  when  she  is  exhausted  and 
says  on  one  occasion  : 

I  would  give  anything  for  a  little  rest  and  quiet  but  must  exert  myself  at 
dinner  to  make  the  agreeable  to  the  big  wigs. 


330  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Tlae  heat,  the  mosquitoes,  the  roars  of  laughter  from  the  gentlemen  till  a 
late  hour  and  the  dancing  and  jollity  of  the  servants  aU  night  all  combmed 
together  to  spoil  our  repose  so  that  we  got  very  little  sleep,  and  I  feel  this  now 
very  much. 

She  notes  her  health  and  her  symptoms  before  her  first  confine- 
ment. The  birth  of  two  children  is  recorded  with  great  rapture  : 
the  struggles  with  the  black  nurses,  the  protection  of  the  babies 
from  scorpions,  mosquitoes,  and  poison  spiders,  and  all  their 
minor  ailments  are  fully  noted.  She  is  very  rehgious,  and  there 
are  many  httle  phrases  of  prayer  and  thanksgiving  throughout 
the  diary.  She  sets  to  work  and  converts  numbers  of  her  black 
servants,  teaches  them  the  catechism,  and  has  them  baptised. 

The  blacldes  perfect  in  theu"  prayers.     Bead  to  them  this  evening  and  intend 
to  do  so  in  future. 

In  fact,  she  is  always  kind  and  attentive  to  the  coloured  popula- 
tion, and  indeed  goes  beyond  what  is  considered  proper. 

I  began  the  baU  with  an  old  Negro  man.  The  gentlemen  each  selected  a 
partner  according  to  rank  by  age  or  service  and  we  aU  danced.  However  I 
was  not  aware  how  much  I  shocked  the  Misses  Murphy  by  domg  this  They 
told  me  afterwards  they  were  nearly  fainting  and  could  hardly  forbear  sheddmg 
a  flood  of  tears  at  such  an  unusual  and  extraordinary  sight. 

Saw  a  number  of  black  and  brown  ladies  in  the  evening  to  please  the  old 
housekeeper  ;  but  I  don't  know  whether  the  white  ladies  whom  I  left  m  the 
dramng  room  when  I  gave  audience  quite  approved  of  my  conduct. 

She  accompanies  Sir  George  on  his  journeys  of  inspection  in  the 
island,  and  is  entertained  by  various  people. 

She  has  a  visit  from  royalty  in  the  shape  of  the  king  ot  the 
Mosquito  Indians  and  his  uncle,  who  called  himself  Count  Stam- 
ford or  the  Duke  of  York.  The  king,  who  is  eight  years  old,  is 
dressed  in  scarlet  and  wears  a  crown,  and 

he  cried  roared  and  yeUed  horribly  and  began  to  pull  ofi  all  his  clothes  in  the 
most  violent  manner  and  was  nearly  naked  before  we  could  have  him  carried 
out  of  the  room. 

Meanwhile  the  uncle  got  drunk  and  had  to  be  put  to  bed.  The 
whole  description  is  extremely  funny. 

Lady  Nugent  is  often  distressed  at  the  connections  formed  by 
white  men  with  the  black  population.     She  exclaims : 

This  is  indeed  a  sad  immoral  country,  but  it  is  no  use  worrying  myself. 

She  shows  throughout  a  most  optimistic  and  cheerful  disposition, 
and  we  have  no  difficulty  in  beheving  that  she  and  Sir  George  were 


SIR  GEORGE  JACKSON  331 

very  popular.  Every  day  she  relates  her  doings,  the  official  and 
political  transactions,  the  weather  phenomena,  more  especially 
the  storms,  and  the  progress  of  her  children,  with  the  most  natural 
and  engaging  frankness. 

Her  diary  when  in  England  is  very  much  less  good.  She  goes 
about  visiting  her  friends,  goes  to  a  drawing-room,  giving  a  full 
description  of  her  dress  and  remarks  on  Mr.  Fox's  "  slovenly 
appearance."  The  extracts  from  the  Indian  diary  show  that  she 
no  longer  wrote  regularly  and  her  youthful  fun  has  disappeared. 
The  little  baby  George,  who  is  guarded  and  watched  with  such 
care  in  Jamaica,  succeeded  his  father  as  second  baronet  and  lived 
to  be  90. 


SIR  GEORGE  JACKSON 

THERE  are  four  volumes  of  Sir  George  Jackson's  diaries 
and  letters  covering  the  period  from  1801  to  1816.  Sir 
George  was  a  diplomatist  of  some  distinction.  The 
most  interesting  period  of  his  career  was  when  he  accompanied 
Sir  Charles  Stewart  to  Germany  and  entered  Paris  with  the  Allies 
in  1815.  Jackson's  diary  reads  very  much  like  extracts  from 
letters  which  he  forgot  to  post — letters  in  which  the  almost 
official  tone  of  despatches  is  preserved  and  in  which  hardly  any 
personal  matter  is  introduced.  Diplomatists  by  their  profession 
are  brought  into  close  touch  with  rulers  and  people  of  importance, 
and  many  of  them  keep  diaries  to  record  their  official  and  social 
intercourse  which  must  appear  at  the  moment  to  be  highly 
important.  But  it  is  not  the  fact  of  meeting  a  King  or  Minister 
that  matters  in  a  diary,  but  what  you  say  about  him  ;  and  Jack- 
son's notes  contribute  very  little  beyond  occasional  anecdotes 
to  our  general  knowledge  of  those  times.  That  the  Czar  was 
"  gracious  and  affable  "  does  not  tell  us  much,  and  Jackson's 
indignation  at  his  not  wearing  the  Garter  when  he  appears  in 
knee  breeches  tells  us  more  about  Jackson  than  about  the  Czar. 
However,  he  has  a  very  strenuous  time  of  it,  sitting  up  all  night 
writing  with  the  pen  sometimes  dropping  from  his  hand  in  his 
exhaustion,  travelMng  from  one  place  to  another  and  sometimes 
finding  himself  very  near  the  scene  of  action.  He  always  has 
faith  in  the  cause  of  the  AUies,  scoffs  at  the  idea  of  invasion  in 
1810,  and  in  1813  notes  that  "  there  is  a  probabihty  of  their  over- 
coming the  great  Boney  at  no  very  far  off  date." 


382  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

In  the  same  year  he  records  "  an  event  to  make  a  figure  in  my 
journal,"  which  is  the  fact  that  he  is  lodged  at  Goethe's  house 
in  Weimar,  and  the  sketch  he  gives  of  the  poet  philosopher  is 
worth  quoting : 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  entertaining  conversation  for  the  presence  of  M. 
de  Goethe  put  vis  all  on  our  mettle.  .  .  .  The  charm  of  his  conversation,  in 
my  humble  opinion,  is  somewhat  marred  by  an  air  of  pedantry  which  is 
probably  due  to  the  adulation  he  is  accustomed  to  receive  from  his  many 
worshippers.  People  here  seem  to  hang,  as  it  were,  upon  his  lips  and  listen 
for  his  words  as  if  an  oracle  were  about  to  hold  forth.  It  is  not  therefore 
surprising  that  they  should  flow  from  them  in  a  less  easy  current  than  if  he 
were  allowed  to  speak  with  as  little  restraint  as  those  from  whom  no  vmusual 
beauty  of  language,  lessons  of  wisdom,  or  poetic  fancies  are  expected  each 
time  they  open  their  mouths.  For  my  part  I  like  Goethe  for  his  good  humour 
and  pleasant  manners ;  for  I  think  that  a  man  inferior  in  genius  and  of  less 
genial  nature  would  have  become  insufferable  in  society  if  constantly  dosed 
with  flattery  as  he  is  and  that  much  credit  is  due  even  to  him  for  being  so  httle 
spoiled  by  it. 

We  get  accounts  of  visits  to  Holland  House,  dinners,  balls, 
and  plays  when  he  is  in  London.  More  than  half  the  volumes 
consists  of  letters,  many  from  his  brother  Francis,  who  was  also 
a  diplomatist. 

Lady  Jackson,  in  editing  the  volumes,  only  wanted  no  doubt 
to  present  the  picture  of  the  official  activities  of  the  diplomatic 
brothers,  and  probably  more  intimate  sections  of  the  diary  were 

omitted. 

Sir  George  distinguished  himself  by  his  ser\dces  in  connection 
with  the  abolition  of  the  Slave  Trade,  and  died  in  1861. 


HENRY  MARTYN 

SIR  JAMES  STEPHEN  says  that  Henry  Martyn's  "  is  the 
one  heroic  name  that  adorns  the  Church  of  England  from 
the  days  of  EUzabeth  to  our  own."  Son  of  a  Cornish  miner's 
agent,  he  was  educated  at  Truro  and  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge, 
and  was  senior  wrangler  in  1801.  He  was  ordained  at  Ely,  and 
in  1805  he  went  to  India,  where  he  devoted  his  hfe  to  missionary 
work.  He  translated  the  New  Testament  and  the  Prayer  Book 
into  Hindustani  and  the  New  Testament  and  Psalms  into  Persian. 
Owing  to  ill  health,  he  obtained  leave  to  go  to  Persia,  where  after 
travelling  about  in  the  greatest  discomfort  he  died  at  the  age  of 
80.     From  1803  to  1812  he  kept  a  more  or  less  regular  diary. 


HENRY   MARTYN  883 

For  nine  months  in  1809  he  made  his  entries  in  Latin  or  Greek 
"  for  secrecy." 
His  intention  in  keeping  a  diary  is  disclosed  in  the  following 

passages  : 

In  making  this  journal,  I  pretend  not  to  record  all  that  I  remember  ;  and 
that  not  on  account  of  its  minuteness  for  nothing  is  strictly  so — but  because 
in  some  cases  it  would  be  improper  to  commit  it  to  paper.  I  desire  to  collect 
the  habit  of  my  mind,  to  discover  my  besetting  sins,  the  occasion  of  calling 
them  forth  and  the  considerations  by  which  I  have  at  any  time  been  stirred 
up  to  duty. 

And  a  year  later  : 

On  the  review  of  my  journal  of  the  last  year  I  perceived  it  has  been  of  lats 
becoming  a  diary  of  my  life  instead  of  being  a  register  of  my  state  of  mind. 

He  never  wholly  succeeds  in  making  it  only  a  register  of  his 
state  of  mind.  So  far  as  it  assumed  this  character,  it  resembles 
very  much  the  journals  of  self-examination  which  have  already 
been  noticed.  Martyn  was  a  saint,  a  man  of  rigidly  strict  and 
uncompromising  religion,  a  man  for  whom  the  world,  human 
intercourse  and  even  the  vision  of  nature  were  filled  with  snares 
and  pitfalls  of  evil.  Self-discipline  of  the  most  rigorous  descrip- 
tion was  the  rule  of  his  life,  but,  hke  many  others,  his  self-con- 
demnation and  self-abasement  when  committed  to  writing  appear 
altogether  exaggerated.  And  while  his  wonderful  record  of 
ascetic  self-discipline  places  Iiim  on  a  pedestal  far  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  ordinary  mortal,  the  incessantly  repeated  expressions 
of  penitence  and  remorse  must  fail  to  attract  others  to  follow  his 
example. 

Such  expressions  as  the  following  occur  on  every  page  :  "  I 
groaned  under  the  corruption  of  my  heart " ;  "  my  sins  really 
deserve  hell  "  ;  "  my  spirit  groans  at  my  unprofitableness  "  ; 
"  daily  do  I  deserve  the  pit  of  destruction  "  ;  "  the  sense  of  my 
guilt  still  almost  overwhelming  "  ;  "  my  soul  groans  at  recording 
the  wickedness  of  every  day." 

When  the  expressions  are  less  extreme  they  are  far  more  con- 
vincing. Such  as,  "I  began  to  see  for  the  first  time  that  I  must  be 
contented  to  take  my  place  among  men  of  second  rate  abilities  "  ; 
"  recollected  that  I  had  said  something  sarcastic  at  table " ; 
"  at  supper  was  grieved  at  the  conversation  and  longed  to  say 
something  effectually  "  ;  "  felt  chagrined  in  the  evening  at  not 
hearing  my  sermon  praised." 

His  style  in  preaching  was  evidently  characteristically  severe. 
A  friend  tells  him  so  : 


884  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

He  then  told  me  of  my  preaching  that  it  was  not  calculated  to  wm  people 
to  religion  :  for  I  set  the  duties  of  religion  in  so  terrific  a  light  that  people 
were  revolted. 

And  another  friend  comes  up  and  says  : 

"  Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Martyn,  you  gave  us  a  good  trimming  yesterday." 

Everything  against  himself,  whether  it  comes  from  others  or 
from  his  own  habitual  self-disparagement,  goes  down  in  the  diary, 
and  occasions  outpourings  of  his  soul  to  God.     Had  he  lived 
an  inactive  life  of  contemplation,  Martyn  would  probably  have 
gone  out  of  his  mind.     Instead  of  that,  however,  his  life  was  one 
of   most    strenuous    and    almost    inconceivable    activity.     Yet 
in    the    midst    of   prayers    and    imprecations    his    daily   doings 
are  recorded.     His  whole  life  on  board  ship  going  out  on  his  long 
voyage  to  India  is  almost  realistically  described,  his  torture  from 
sea-sickness,  the  storms,  the  indifference  and  open  hostihty  of 
some  of  the  crew,  his  failure  in  preaching,  his  attempts  to  convert, 
to  pray  with  or  to  move  the  spirit  in  some  of  the  people,  all  become 
pegs  on  which  to  hang  reflections  either  about  his  own  desperate 
sinfulness  or  the  hopeless  condition  of  those  around  him.     Even 
the  glories  of  the  setting  sun  he  declares  have  no  power  to  charm 
him,  so  absorbed  is  he  in  the  work  of  salvation.     He  revelled  in 
opposition,    adversity,    struggle,    discomfort   and   pain.     It   was 
as  if  he  enjoyed  being  buffeted,   and  anything  that  softened, 
beautified  or  mitigated  the  trials  of  life  seemed  almost  to  exas- 
perate him.     He  appears  to  resent  having  any  human  feelings  at 
all.     But  he  has  them  even  to  the  extent  of  falling  in  love.     Again 
here  we  find  him  regarding  the  young  lady  from  the  point  of  \iew 
of  how  she  will  help  his  soul  or  be  of  assistance  to  him  in  his 
work.     One  is  inchned  to  feel  that  the  failure  of  his  love  affair, 
which  would  have  been  a  tragedy  to  a  normal  man,  was  looked 
upon  by  him  as  an  additional  cross  which  his  Spartan  nature  was 
ready  to  bear.     He  had  met  her  in  England  and  had  made  advances 
to  her.     After  he  has  been  in  India  a  while  he  decides  in  favour 
of  marriage,  and  writes  to  her  to  come  out  to  him.     Her  mother 
refuses  her  consent,  and  there  the  matter  ends  : 

Grief  and  disappointment  threw  my  soul  into  confusion  at  first  but  gradu- 
ally, as  my  disorder  subsided,  my  eyes  were  opened  and  reason  resumed  its 
ofiice. 

He  continues,  however,  to  have  an  affectionate  correspondence 
with  her  to  the  end  of  his  short  hfe. 

Martyn  refers,  of  course,  in  many  entries  to  his  constant  study 


THOMAS  CREEVEY  335 

of  languages,  which  began  before  he  went  out  and  on  board  ship. 
He  gained  such  proficiency  that  he  could  preach  in  Hindustani 
as  well  as  do  his  laborious  and  monumental  work  of  translation. 
So  far  as  conversions  are  concerned,  he  has  no  success.  He 
admits  this  himself  in  an  entry  on  his  thirtieth  birthday  : 

I  once  used  to  flatter  myself  that  when  entering  my  thirtieth  year  I  might 
have  the  happiness  of  seeing  an  Indian  congregation  of  saints  won  to  the 
gospel  through  my  preaching.  Alas  !  how  far  is  this  from  being  the  case  ; 
scarcely  even  an  European  can  I  fix  upon  as  having  been  awakened  under  my 
ministry  since  coming  here. 

Even  allowing  for  his  usual  exaggeration  with  regard  to  his  own 
demerits,  it  is  clear  that  Martyn's  success  was  as  a  scholar,  not  as 
a  preacher.  It  may  be  imagined  that  a  man  of  his  type  was 
entirely  out  of  his  element  so  far  as  social  festivities  were  concerned. 
Although  he  says  : 

I  groan  at  the  misery  and  vanity  of  the  world  and  humbly  adore  the  mercy 
of  God  which  hath  separated  me  from  them, — 

nevertheless  he  is  obliged  occasionally  to  go  to  dinners  and  other 
entertainments.     Here  is  one  : 

I  found  such  a  party  of  Dragoon  officers  that  I  could  not  open  my  mouth  but 
was  obliged  to  sit  listening  to  nonsense,  while  the  happy  people  of  God  were 
worshipping  in  his  courts  ;  but  I  lifted  up  my  heart  in  prayer  and  ejaculation 
frequently ;  and  was  therefore  so  far  from  being  inclined  to  conform  to  them 
that  I  never  felt  more  averse  to  the  ways  and  miserable  merriment  of 
the  worldly. 

His  journey  in  Persia  becomes  more  and  more  distressing  as 
his  fever  and  wretchedness  increase.  Even  for  this  tough  and 
vahant  spirit  the  load  of  suffering  becomes  too  great.  But  to 
the  very  end  he  thinks  "  with  sweet  comfort  and  peace  of  my  God, 
in  solitude  my  company,  my  friend  and  comforter."  The  last 
entry  is  written  ten  days  before  he  died. 

The  journal,  edited  by  Samuel  Wilberforce,  was  published 
in  1839. 


THOMAS   CREEVEY 

ALTHOUGH     Greville     speaks     of    Creevey's     "  copious 
diary,"    Sir  Herbert  Maxwell,    the  editor  of  the  Creevey 
.Payers,  states  that   it  never  came  into  his  hands,  and 
expresses  some  doubt  as  to  whether  it  ever  existed.     If  it  did,  it 


336  iENGLiSH   DIARIES 

is  conceivable  that  his  poUtical  opponents  got  hold  of  it  after 
his  death  and  destroyed  the  greater  part  of  it.  Anyhow,  the 
Creev^y  Papers  consist  almost  exclusively  of  letters  and  memo- 
randa of  reminiscences,  and  there  are  only  a  few  diary  extracts. 
These  show  that  intermittently  the  great  collector  of  gossip  must 
have  kept  some  sort  of  a  diary.  He  certainly  was  well  qualified 
to  do  so,  because  he  was  in  a  favourable  position  to  hear  all  that 
was  going  on  and  in  his  writing  he  shows  a  special  talent  for 
recording  the  intrigues  and  scandals  of  the  day  with  the  ease  and 
indiscretion  which  is  very  suitable  for  diary  writing.  We  may 
regret,  therefore,  that  there  is  not  more  of  it. 

Thomas  Creevey,  born  in  1768,  was  for  several  years  a  Member 
of  Parliament.  The  few  passages  in  his  journal  from  which  we 
can  quote  occur  between  1809 — 1818.  There  is  nothing  what- 
ever in  them  about  himself  or  his  domestic  affairs. 

He  relates  in  some  detail  a  visit  to  Ho  wick,  where  he  has  several 
conversations  with  Lord  Grey,  but  he  remarks  : 

Conversation  after  dinner  and  after  supper  always  as  artificial  as  the  devil. 
Lord  Grey  showing  his  spite  at  my  conduct  the  last  session. 

He  sometimes  writes  in  the  present  tense  : 

Mrs.  Creevey  receives  a  letter  from  Lady  Petre  begging  her  and  me  to 
write  letters  of  introduction  in  Edinburgh  for  her  son  yotmg  Lord  Petre  who 
is  going  there.  Mrs.  Creevey  asks  Lord  Grey  to]  let  her  send  a  note  to  Aln- 
wick to  bring  him  and  his  tutor  over  here.  Lord  and  Lady  Grey  make  such 
difficulty  about  beds  and  in  short  fling  such  cold  water  upon  the  proposal  that 
we  drop  the  subject.     Take  notice.     There  was  room  in  the  house — aplenty. 

We  cannot  help  sympathising  with  Lord  Grey. 

The  entries  in  1809  are  chiefly  political  gossip  and  scandal 
about  Mrs.  Clarke,  the  Duke  of  York's  mistress.  In  1811  at 
Brighton  he  is  highly  delighted  at  being  asked  several  times  to 
the  Pavilion  with  his  wife  and  step-daughter,  so  we  get  some  amus- 
ing references  to  the  Prince  Regent. 

We  were  at  the  Pavilion  last  night — Mrs.  Creevey's  three  daughters  and 
myself — and  had  a  very  pleasant  evening.  .  .  .  About  half  past  nine  which 
might  be  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  we  arrived  the  Prince  came  out  of  the 
dining  room.  He  was  in  the  best  hiunour,  bowed  and  spoke  to  all  of  us  and 
looked  uncommonly  well  tho'  very  fat. 

The  Regent  sat  in  the  musiek  Room  almost  all  the  time  between  Viotti, 
the  famous  violin  player  and  Lady  Jane  Houston  and  he  went  on  for  hours 
beating  his  thighs  the  proper  time  for  the  band  and  singing  out  aloud  and 
looking  about  for  accompaniment  from  Viotti  and  Lady  Jane.  It  was  curious 
to  see  a  Regent  thus  employed  but  he  seemed  in  high  good  humour. 


LADY  CHARLOTTE  BURY  337 

The  Regent  was  again  all  night  in  the  Musick  room  and  not  content  with 
presiding  over  the  Band  but  actually  singing  and  very  loud  too. 

The  Prince  was  very  merry  and  seemed  very  well.  He  began  to  me  with 
saying  very  loud  that  he  had  sent  for  Mrs.  Creevey's  physic  to  London. 

The  passages  quoted  in  1817  and  1818  are  mostly  accounts 
of  conversations  with  the  Duke  of  WeUington.  He  seems  anxious 
to  show  on  what  famihar  terms  the  Duke  was  with  him. 

We  talked  over  English  politics  and  upon  my  saying  that  never  Government 
cut  so  contemptible  a  figure  as  ours  did  the  last  session — particularly  in  the 
defeats  they  sustained  on  the  proposals  to  augment  the  establishments  of  the 
Dukes  of  Clarence,  Kent  and  Cumberland  upon  their  marriages  he  said  "  By 
God  !  there  is  a  great  deal  to  be  said  about  that.  They  (the  Princes)  are  the 
damnedest  millstone  about  the  necks  of  any  Government  that  can  be  imagined. 
They  have  insulted — personally  insulted — two  thirds  of  the  gentlemen  of 
England  and  how  can  it  be  wondered  at  that  they  take  their  revenge  upon 
them  when  they  get  them  in  the  House  of  Commons  ?  It  is  their  only  oppor- 
timity  and  I  think,  by  God  !   they  are  quite  right  to  use  it. 

All  the  "  Well,  Creevey,"  "  Come  in  here,  Creevey,"  "  Come 
on  and  dine  with  me,  Creevey,"  are  most  carefully  noted.  Sum- 
ming up  the  Duke,  he  writes  ; 

It  is  a  curious  thing  to  have  seen  so  much  of  this  said  Duke  as  I  have  done 
at  diSerent  times  considering  the  imposters  that  most  men  in  power  are — the 
insufferable  pretensions  one  meets  with  in  every  Jack  in  office — the  uniform 
frankness  and  simplicity  of  Wellington  in  all  conversations  I  have  heard  him 
engaged  in  coupled  with  the  unparalleled  situation  he  holds  in  the  world  for 
an  English  subject  make  him  to  me  the  most  interesting  object  I  have  ever 
seen  in  my  life. 

It  is  not  in  the  diary  extracts  but  in  the  letters  and  memoranda 
that  the  full  spice  of  Creevey's  tittle-tattle  comes  out. 


LADY   CHARLOTTE  BURY 

IN  1838  was  published  anonymously  A  Diary  Illustrative  of  the 
Times  of  George  the  Fourth.  It  created  a  considerable  stir  and 
was  fiercely  attacked.  Thackeray  tore  it  to  pieces  in  Skim- 
mings from  the  Diary  of  George  IV,  by  C.  Yellowplush,  Esq. ; 
but  this  did  not  prevent  him  using  passages  from  it  in  his  Four 
Georges.     Tom  Hood  wrote  : 

When  I  resign  the  world  so  briery 
To  have  across  the  Styx  my  ferrying 

O  may  I  die  without  a  Diary 

And  be  interr'd  without  a  Busying  ! 

22 


i 


338  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

This  shows  that  the  authorship  was  already  suspected. 
Lady  Charlotte  Bury,  who  was  the  author  of  this  diary,  was 
born  in  1775.  She  was  a  daughter  of  John,  Duke  of  Argyll, 
and  became  a  famous  beauty.  She  married  first  m  1796  John 
Campbell,  her  cousin,  and  in  1818  the  Rev.  Edward  J.  Bury.  The 
latter  got  hold  of  the  diary,  which  was  originally  never  intended 
for  pubhcation,  edited  it  and  added  notes,  but  he  died  before 
its  actual  pubhcation.  Lady  Charlotte  was  a  proUfic  novelist. 
She  turned  out  novel  after  novel  for  the  sake  of  making  a  little 
money  when  she  found  herself  in  reduced  circumstances  m  later 
years,  but  no  one  has  ever  heard  of  any  of  them. 

The  diary  is  certainly  a  most  astonishing  production.     Tarts 
of  it  read  almost  hke  a  parody  or  skit.     Her  husband  evidently 
tampered  with  it,  anyhow  to  the  extent  of  mentiomng  the  author 
herself  by  name  and  in  the  third  person,  with  a  view  no  doubt 
of  putting  people  off  the  right  scent.     It  covers  about  ten  years 
(1810-1820)  with  breaks,  and  many  of  the  entries  occupy  several 
pages.     Scandal  gossip  and  anecdotage  served  in  rich  profusion 
are  heavy  reading  at  the  best  of  times,  and  we  do  not  get  much 
relief  in  the  sentimental  effusions  of  the  novehst  on  her  foreign 
travels.     What  she  sees  may  be  "  sublime,"  "  radiant,'       dazz- 
ling"    "transcendental,"    "effulgent,"    "enchanting,         replete 
with  sweetness,"  but  our  attention  flags.     A  comparison  of  Lady 
Charlotte's  Journal  with  Fanny  Burney's  will  strike  anyone  who 
reads  the  two  because  they  both  describe  the  Court,  they  are 
both  novelists,  and  they  both  write  a  great  deal.     But  in  l^anny 
Burney  there  is  a  shrewdness,  a  humour,  an  inimitable  descriptive 
power  which  we  may  look  for  in  vain  in  Lady  Charlotte's  observa- 
tions •  in  the  former  diary  there  is  a  reticence  with  regard  to  scandal, 
a  rather  charming  propriety  and  even  in  her  raptures  a  naivete 
which  is  absent  in  the  more  worldly  and  sophisticated  lady  s 
writing.     In  another   respect,   however.   Lady  Charlotte  differs 
again  from  the  author  of  Evelina.     In  her  more  mature  experience 
of  the  world  and  society  she  has  no  awe  or  obseqmous  reverence 
for  her  royal  acquaintances.     Fanny's  "  sweet  Queen  '    becomes 
"  the  old  Queen  whose  death  would  not  be  much  regretted     ; 
"the  excellent  King"  becomes  "the  unfortunate  King"^whose 
"mind  is  quite  gone,"  and  Princess  Charlotte  who  is      quite 
beautiful  "  becomes  Princess  Charlotte  who  is  "  neither  graceful 
.    nor  elegant,  and  extremely  spread  for  her  age."     With  aU  her 
faults  Lady  Charlotte  kept  her  head  when  she  was  m  the  presence 
of  royalty,   and  indeed  exercised  her  critical  faculties  m  this 
connection  far  more  skilfuUy  than  when  she  was  surrounded  by 


LADY  CHARLOTTE   BURY  339 

her  society  friends,  who  all  appear  rather  colourless,  or  than  when 
she  was  admiring  the  pictures  of  Carlo  Dolci  in  Italian  galleries  or 
gazing  at  the  beauties  of  Italian  scenery. 

After  a  ruthless  pruning  of  the  heavy  and  elaborate  acces- 
sories in  the  diary,  one  can  detach  a  very  bold  and  pecuharly 
realistic  portrait  of  the  Regent's  unfortunate  wife,  to  whom 
Lady  Charlotte  was  a  lady-in-waiting.  The  curious  thing  is 
that  whenever  she  is  describing  or  criticizing  or  pitying  her  royal 
mistress  Lady  Charlotte's  style  seems  entirely  to  alter ;  the  soar- 
ing enthusiasm  vanishes,  the  cloying  verbiage  ceases,  and  we 
get  trenchant  phrases,  acute  observations  and  sound  judgments. 
Though  a  critical  she  was  a  loyal  and  helpful  friend  to  the  Princess 
of  Wales,  and  she  certainly  provides  the  most  intimate  informa- 
tion with  regard  to  the  extraordinary  treatment  of  George  IV's 
wife  that  has  been  furnished  from  any  source. 

We  may  therefore  pass  over  a  great  deal  of  the  diary  in  order 
to  collect  some  of  the  passages  which  gives  us  this  close  view 
of  Carohne  of  Brunswick,  not  because  she  is  either  an  interesting 
or  important  historical  personage,  but  because  it  shows  off  the 
diarist  at  her  best.  Only  a  small  selection  can  be  made  from 
the  many  pages  of  conversations,  confidences  and  revelations 
which  the  diary  contains. 

Sometimes  there  is  a  series  of  exalted  sentiments  in  what  she  (the  Princess) 
says  and  does  that  quite  astonishes  me  and  makes  me  rub  my  eyes  and  open 
my  ears  to  know  if  it  is  the  same  person  who  condescends  to  talk  low  nonsense 
and  sometimes  even  gross  ribaldry.  One  day  I  think  her  ail  perfection — 
another  I  know  not  what  to  think.  The  tissue  of  her  character  is  certainly 
more  uneven  than  that  of  any  other  person.  One  day  there  is  tinsel  and 
tawdrjr — another  worsted — another  silk  and  satin,  another  gold  and  jewels — 
another  de  J<i  boue,  de  la  crasse — que  dirai-jc  ? 

No  appetite  for  converse,  no  strength  of  nerves,  no  love  for  any  individual 
who  might  be  present  could  possibly  enable  any  person  who  was  not  royal 
(they  certainly  are  gifted  with  supernatural  strength)  to  sit  for  five  or  six 
hours  at  table  and  keep  vigil  till  morning  light.  Some  one  I  remember 
present  that  night  ventured  to  hint  that  morning  was  at  hand.  "  Ah  "  said 
the  Princess  "  God,  He  knows  when  we  may  all  meet  again — to  teU  you  God's 
truth,  when  I  am  happy  and  comfortable  I  could  sit  on  for  ever." 

The  Princess  gave  a  long  and  detailed  account  of  her  marriage  ..."  a 
protestant  Princess  must  be  found — they  fixed  upon  the  Prince's  cousin.  To 
tell  you  God's  truth  I  always  hated  it  but  to  oblige  my  father,  anything.  But 
the  first  moment  I  saw  my  jutwr  and  Lady  Jersey  together  I  knew  how  it  all 
was  and  I  said  to  myself  '  Oh,  very  well.'  " 

The  old  ourang  outang  came  to  dinner — more  free  and  easy  and  detestable 
than  ever.  Then  Her  Royal  Highness  sang — squall — squall  !  Why  invite 
me  ?     After  supper  she  continued  the  complaints.     I  cannot  describe  how 


340  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

wearisome  how  unavaUing  and  injudicious  the  subjects  of  her  conversation 
now  are  in  general. 

In  regard  to  myself  I  have  laid  down  a  rule  of  conduct  towards  Her  Royal 
Highness  from  which  I  am  determined  not  to  depart.     This  determmation 
is  never  to  give  advice  ;  because  I  am  quite  aware  that  it  might  do  me  much     j 
harm  and  would  do  her  no  good. 

The  Princess  is  always  seeking  amusement  and  unfortunately  often  at  the 
expense  of  prudence  and  propriety.  She  cannot  endui-e  a  dull  person  ;  she 
has  often  said  to  me  "  I  can  forgive  any  fault  but  that  "  ;  and  the  anathema 
she  frequently  pronounces  on  such  persons  is  "  Mine  Gott  !  dat  is  the  dullest 
person  Gott  Almighty  ever  did  born  !  " 

All  the  time  I  staid  and  walked  with  her  Royal  Highness  she  cried  and  spoke 
with  a  desolation  of  heart  that  really  made  me  sorry  for  her  ;  and  yet  at  the 
end  of  our  conversation,  poor  soul,  she  smiled  and  an  expression  of  resi^ation 
even  of  content  irradiated  her  countenance  as  she  said  "  I  wiU  go  on  hopmg 
for  happier  days.  Do  you  think  I  may  ?  "  .  .  .  This  Princess  is  a  most 
peculiar  person— she  alternately  makes  me  disUke  and  hke  her. 

I  dined  at  Kensington.     There  was  no  one  besides   the  Princess   except 

Lady  We  dined    off  mutton  and  onions  and  I  thought  Lady 

would  have  degobbiled  with  the  coarseness  of  the  food  and  the  horror  of  seemg 
the  Princess  eat  to  satiety. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  Opera  to  the  Princess's  and  all  her  attendmits' 
infinite  surprise  we  saw  the  Regent  placed  between  the  Emperor  and  the  Kmg 
of  Prussia  and  all  the  minor  Princes  in  a  box  to  the  right.         God  save  the 
King  "  was  performing  when  the  Princess  entered  and  consequently  she  did 
not  sit  down.  ...  As  soon  as  the  air  was  over  the  whole  pit  turned  round 
and  applauded  her.     We  who  were  in  attendance  on  H.R.H.  intreated  her  to 
rise  and  make  a  curtsey  but  she  sat  immoveable  and  at  last  turmng  round  said 
"  My  dear,  Punch's  wife  is  nobody  when  Punch  is  present."     We  all  laughed 
but  still  thought  her  wrong  not  to  acknowledge  the  compliment  paid  her ; 
but  she  was  right  as  the  sequel  will  prove.     "  We  shall  be  hissed  "said  Su-  W. 
Gell      "  No,  no  "  again  replied  the  Princess  with  infimte  good  humour      1 
'      know  my  business  b etter  than  to  take  the  morsel  out  of  my  husband's  mouth  ; 
I  am  not  to  seem  to  know  that  the  applause  is  meant  for  me  till  they  call  my 
name."     The  Prince  seemed  to  verify  her  words  for  he  got  up  and  bowed  to 
the  audience.  ...  The  fact  was  the  Prince  took  the  applause  to  himself  .  .  . 
when  the  Opera  was  finished,  the  Prince  and  his  supporters  were  applauded 
but  not  enthusiastically  ;    and  scarcely  had  he  left  the  box  when  the  people 
caUed  for  the  Princess  and  gave  her  a  very  warm  applause.     She  then  went 
forward  and  made  three  curtseys  and  hastily  withdrew.     I  beheve  she  acted 
perfectly  right  throughout  the  evening  ;  but  everybody  tells  a  different  story 
and  thinks  differently. 

After  dinner  her  Royal  Highness  made  a  wax  figui-e  as  usual  and  gave  it  an 

y  admirable  addition  of  large  horns  ;   then  took  three  pins  out  of  her  garment 

/  and  stuck  them  through  and  through  and  put  the  figure  to  roast  and  melt  at 

the  fire      If  it  was  not  too  melancholy  to  have  to  do  with  this  I  could  have 

died  of  laughing.     Lady  says  the  Princess  indulges  mtMs  amusement 

whenever  there  are  no  strangers  at  table  and  she  thinks  H.R.H.  really  has  a 


LADY  CHARLOTTE  BURY  341 

superstitioiis  belief  that  destroying  this  effigy  of  her  husband  will  bring  to 
pass  the  destriiction  of  his  royal  person. 

And  later  when  she  meets  her  in  Genoa  : 

She  (the  Prmcess)  had  no  rouge  on,  wore  tidy  shoes,  was  grown  rather 
thinner  and  looked  altogether  uncommonly  well.  The  first  person  who 
opened  the  door  to  me  was  the  one  whom  it  was  impossible  to  mistake  hearing 
what  is  reported  ;  six  feet  high,  a  magnificent  head  of  black  hair,  pale  com- 
plexion, mustachios  which  reach  from  here  to  London.  Such  is  the  stork 
(Pergami).  But  of  course  I  only  appeared  to  take  him  for  an  upper  servant. 
The  Princess  immediately  took  me  aside  and  told  me  all  that  was  true  and 
a  great  deal  that  was  not. 

The  same  decoction  of  mingled  falsehood  and  truth  is  in  use  as  heretofore. 

I  cannot  conceive  why  H.R.H.  invites  the  latter  little  sneaking  fellow  who 
is  a  decided  enemy  to  her  and  a  spy  set  over  her  by  the  Prince.  I  was  very 
glad  that  her  dress,  conversation  and  manners  happened  by  some  lucky  chance 
to  be  all  perfectly  proper  so  that  imless  Monsieur  D  told  lies  he  could  not  say 
anything  was  improper. 

Of  course  we  get  all  the  details  about  the  Princess's  houses 
and  exploits,  the  political  significance  of  the  position  and  her 
visits  from  Brougham  and  Whitbread  and  finally  the  trial ; 
though  the  account  of  the  latter  is  in  a  separate  memorandum. 
But  whether  with  the  Princess  of  Wales  or  her  daughter  Princess 
Charlotte,  Lady  Charlotte  is  always  on  her  guard.  "  There  is  no 
believing,"  she  says,  "  what  these  royal  people  say  ;  and  I  verily 
believe  they  do  not  know  what  they  believe  themselves," 

Passing  now  to  other  parts  of  the  diary,  when  Lady  Charlotte 
sentimentalizes  about  herself,  we  get  passages  like   this  : 

The  heart  which  acknowledges  within  it  a  hopeless  vacuum,  which  has  been 
disappointed  in  all  its  expectations  has  burnt  out  its  affections  to  the  very 
ashes  and  from  nourishing  every  feeling  to  excess  is  forced  to  subside  in  the 
fixed  calmness  of  indifference  and  be  content  with  common  life,  such  a  heart 
must  surely  perish  from  inanition  if  it  aspire  not  to  the  life  to  come. 

When  she  misses  seeing  Thomas  a  Becket's  tomb  at  Canterbury 
she  says  : 

I  regretted  not  being  able  yesterday  to  visit  the  shrine  of  Thomas  a  Becket 
at  Canterbm-y  where  hypocrisy  paid  the  price  of  its  \ace  by  blood,  and  super- 
stition trembled  in  its  tiu-n  for  having  dared  to  xisurp  the  power  of  Heaven  to 
punish. 

We  get  many  "  melancholy  reflexions  "  on  her  "  unhappy 
existence,"  although  the  richness  of  the  style  on  these  occasions 
prevents  us  from  fully  understanding  what  the  precise  causes  were. 

Jii  the  diary  she  relates  a  number  of  anecdotes,  generally  second- 


342  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

hand,  and  there  are  constant  httle  insinuations  of  scandal.  One 
or  two  sketches  are  given  of  people,  amongst  others  one  of  Lady 
Caroline  Lamb,  with  whom  she  makes  friends. 

Many  letters  from  various  correspondents  besides  the  Princess 
of  Wales  are  interspersed  throughout  the  pages  of  the  diary. 
Sir  Walter  Scott  was  among  the  friends  who  wrote  to  her. 

In  1814  Lady  Charlotte  was  abroad.  In  France,  Switzerland 
and  Italy  her  life  seems  to  be  occupied  with  sight-seeing,  a  certain 
amount  of  reading  and  collecting  from  acquaintances,  news  and 
gossip.  "  Early  this  morning  I  went  about  to  gather  up  the  news." 
There  is  a  great  deal  about  Madame  de  This,  La  Marquise  de  That 
and  the  Duchess  of  The  Other,  but  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
read  about  them.  Our  eye  only  wanders  across  the  page  to  catch 
references  to  the  unfortunate  CaroUne.  She  keeps  up  a  corre- 
spondence with   the  Princess  and  she  meets  her  again  in  Italy. 

The  diary,  though  very  full  when  she  writes  in  it,  has  breaks. 
She  accounts  for  one  of  them  thus  : 

This  last  week  one  of  my  overcoming  periods  of  returning  sadness  stopped 
my  pen.  Suspense,  astonishment,  dismay  have  all  combined  to  make  me 
feel  that  common  daily  notes  were  trivial  and  insufficient  to  express  my  state 
of  mind. 

But  as  usual  we  cannot  gather  the  precise  reason  of  this  desper- 
ate state  of  mind. 

Lady  Charlotte  does  not  blossom  out  as  a  novelist  till  after  the 
date  on  which  the  diary  is  concluded.     But  in  1818  she  says  : 

I  am  glad  that  people  of  ton  have  taken  to  writing  novels  ;  it  is  an  excellent 
amusement  for  them  and  also  for  the  public. 

Lady  Charlotte  died  at  the  age  of  86,  but  not  "  lone  and 
neglected  "  as  some  of  the  biographical  notices  of  her  pretend. 
Her  daughters  were  with  her. 

Her  diary  and  letters  were  re-edited  by  A.  Francis  Steuart  in 
1908  without  Mr.  Bury's  original  notes  and  with  many  of  the 
blanks,  left  for  names,  filled  in. 


LIEUTENANT  SWABEY 

THE  diary  kept  by  Lieutenant  Swabey  in  the  Peninsular 
War  (from  1811  to  the  battle  of  Vittoria  in  1813,  when 
he  was  wounded)  is  a  good  example  of  a  soldier's  diary, 
which  in  addition  to  technical  miUtary  details  contains  descrip- 


LIEUTENANT   SWABEY  343 

tions  of  scenery  and  places  and  some  rather  humorous  comments. 
The  cheerful  disposition  of  the  young  diarist  of  22  is  quite  apparent 
in  the  full  entries. 
We  are  reminded  of  Teonge  when  he  says  on  the  journey  out : 

The  first  ceremony  was  that  the  whole  dinner  with  the  two  servants  and 
myself  went  bodily  to  leeward  on  the  floor.  I  kept  fast  hold  of  a  chicken  by 
the  leg  and  we  fell  to  without  knives  and  forks.  I  think  I  have  not  laughed 
so  much  since  I  left  Christchurch. 

He  enters  the  books  he  reads,  which  include  Dryden,  Otway, 
a  French  book  on  Tacitus,  and  Gil  Bias.  He  comments  on  the 
weather  and  tells  of  his  riding  and  coursing  and  other  amusements. 
But  as  with  all  soldiers  on  active  service  it  is  the  periods  of  waiting 
and  inaction  that  are  the  most  trying. 

Rather  troubled  with  a  headache  which  was  not  deserved  by  idleness. 

I  am  apt  to  be  desponding  when  too  quiet  and  unemployed. 

There  is  such  a  complete  vacancy  and  want  of  employTnent  in  our  time  that 
I  cannot  congratulate  myself  of  a  night  on  having  done  anything  either  usefvd 
or  entertaining. 

I  feel  myself  so  constantly  engaged  in  the  daily  pursuits  of  infantry  officers 
in  England  viz  :  watching  fishes  swim  under  the  bridge,  throwing  stones  at 
pigs,  etc.     I  am  ashamed  of  it  but  have  nothing  else  to  do. 

He  goes  out  to  try  and  find  books  at  the  priest's  house,  but  only 
discovers  "  lives  of  saints,  alias  a  compendium  of  ecclesiastical 
impositions."  His  descriptions  of  discomforts  are  amusing,  but 
he  always  makes  the  best  of  them : 

The  beds  had  counterpanes  of  satin  with  lace  borders  and  fringe  ornaments 
but  oh  comfort  where  are  you  gone  ? 

We  get  characteristic  expressions  of  impatience  at  his  superior 
officers  : 

Confound  aU  dilatory  and  spiritless  generals  ! 

The  military  engagements  are  fully  described,  and  in  many 
places  there  are  additional  notes  inserted  by  him  at  a  later  date. 
He  is  much  more  concerned  in  giving  a  full  account  of  the  victory 
at  Vittoria  than  in  relating  the  incident  of  his  being  wounded  in 
the  knee.  Afterwards,  however,  he  chafes  a  good  deal  at  being 
incapacitated,  and  finally  he  is  invaUded  home. 

We  find  on  one  occasion  the  usual  diarist's  misgiving  at  going 
on  with  his  record  : 


844  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

I  found  this  day  as  well  as  many  of  late  so  little  worthy  of  being  remembered 
that  I  begin  to  think  of  curtailing  my  plan  of  journal  altogether  and  am  the 
more  tempted  to  do  so  from  the  liabits  that  necessity  imposes  on  us. 

There  is  an  account  very  modestly  told  of  his  trying  to  help 
a  wounded  French  soldier :  "I  could  not  get  the  Frenchman 
out  of  my  head."  The  whole  incident  shows  a  kindly  and  humani- 
tarian disposition.  His  comments  on  the  Portuguese  are  not 
complimentary  ;    he  very  much  prefers  the  Spaniards. 

Swabey  returned  afterwards  to  active  service,  fought  in  the 
battle  of  Toulouse  and  also  at  Waterloo.  But  there  is  no  further 
diary  from  his  pen.  In  1840  he  settled  in  Prince  Edward  Island 
and  died  in  1872. 


HENRY  CRABB  ROBINSON 

IN  Dr.  Wilhams'  Library  in  Gordon  Square  there  are  thirty- 
five  volumes  of  Crabb  Robinson's  diaries,  extending  from  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century  to  his  death  in  1867.  He  was  a 
diarist  with  a  big  D  and  gave  up  a  great  part  of  his  time  to  record- 
ing conversations  and  noting  incidents  in  his  intercourse  with 
the  many  celebrated  people  with  whom  he  was  on  friendly  terms. 
In  1869  Thomas  Sadler  pubHshed  three  volumes  giving  extracts 
from  the  diary,  reminiscences,  and  part  of  the  correspondence. 
This  selection  has  been  condemned  as  meagre  and  inadequate. 
But  a  careful  perusal  of  these  volumes  makes  one  doubt  whether 
a  further  selection  from  the  diaries  would  produce  anything 
of  great  importance  or  interest  except  a  few  actual  facts  and 
dates.  Crabb  Robinson  is  described  in  his  epitaph  :  "  Friend 
and  associate  of  Goethe  and  Wordsworth,  Wieland  and  Coleridge, 
Flaxman  and  Blake,  Clarkson  and  Charles  Lamb ;  he  honoured 
and  loved  the  Great  and  noble  in  their  thoughts  and  characters." 
He  was  undoubtedly  a  very  sympathetic  friend  and  had  a  great 
social  gift ;  he  was  a  famous  conversationalist,  and  his  breakfast 
parties  rivalled  those  of  Samuel  Rogers. 

After  early  experiences  as  a  journalist  he  practised  as  a  barrister 
long  enough  to  acquire  a  modest  competence,  and  he  then  appears 
to  have  devoted  his  life  to  social  intercourse  with  men  of  note 
and  became  a  satellite  of  men  of  genius.  He  was  therefore  in  a 
very  favourable  position  to  observe  and  record ;  and  with  pains- 
taking industry  he  produced  not  only  a  voluminous  diary  but 
reminiscences  written  subsequently   amplifying  and  explaining 


HENRY   CRABB   ROBINSON  345 

many  of  the  diary  entries.  The  probably  very  unfair  misgiving 
seems  to  force  itself  on  a  reader  from  time  to  time — ^was  Crabb 
Robinson  an  awful  bore  ? 

With  all  his  gifts  and  opportunities  we  are  anyhow  inclined 
to  think  that  Crabb  Robinson  lacked  the  finer  perceptions  and 
the  talent  of  pen  portraiture.  There  is  hardly  a  passage  in  wliich 
he  brings  the  personality  of  the  interesting  characters  such  as 
Flaxman,  Lamb  and  Wordsworth  before  the  reader  with  any 
striking  vividness.  There  is  a  mass  of  quite  commonplace  detail, 
but  no  flash  of  hght,  no  telhng  or  discriminating  character 
sketch.  His  notes  are  immeasurably  inferior  to  those  of 
Carohne  Fox.  The  letters  and  reminiscences  would  carry  us 
further  no  doubt  than  the  actual  diary.  But  it  is  with  the 
diary  that  we  are  here  concerned.  In  it  there  are  a  good 
many  hterary  judgments  of  his  own  and  of  his  friends.  But 
the  immense  collection  of  celebrities — ^for  to  those  above  men- 
tioned must  be  added  many  others  such  as  Hazlitt,  de  Quincey, 
Carlyle,  Landor,  Madame  de  Stael,  etc.,  etc. — remains  a  list  of 
names,  not  one  of  them  really  liv^es  even  though  many  of  their 
opinions  are  related,  and  he  cannot  help  noting  characteristic 
features  such  as  Lamb's  puns.  Daily  contact  even  with  the  great 
cannot  of  course  constantly  produce  illuminating  observations. 
Character  estimates  of  any  value  must  be  the  result  of  collected 
impressions  and  summaries.  Conscientious  daily  diary  notes  are 
not  the  best  medium  for  giving  the  living  impression  of  others 
unless  there  is  special  skill  and  perception  behind  them.  This 
sort  of  entry,  for  instance,  does  not  arrest  a  reader: 

In  the  evening  I  stepped  over  to  Lamb  and  sat  with  him  from  ten  to  eleven. 
He  was  very  chatty  and  pleasant.  Pictures  and  poetry  were  the  subjects  of 
our  talk. 

A  delightful  breakfast  with  Milnes — a  party  of  eight  among  whom  were 

I  Rogers,  Carlyle,  who  made  himself  very  pleasant  indeed,  Moore  and  Landor. 
!  The  talk  very  good,  equally  divided.     Talleyrand's  recent  death  and  the  poet 
Blake  were  the  subjects. 

Venice  impresses  me  more  agreeably  than  it  did  seven  years  ago.  The 
monuments  of  its  faded  glory  are  deeply  affecting.  We  called  on  the  Tickners 
a  ad  Wordsworth  accompanied  them  to  hear  Tasso  chanted  by  gondoliers. 

But  although  there  is  a  great  deal  of  this  sort  of  style,  it  would 
be  unfair  not  to  recognize  merit  in  many  parts  of  the  diary.  He 
is  not  invariably  in  sympathetic  agreement,  drinking  in  words 
of  wisdom.     With  Godwin  in  1815  he  has  a  hot  political  discussion. 


346  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  spent  the  evening  by  appointment  vpith  Godwin.  The  Taylors  were 
there.  We  talked  politics  not  very  comfortably.  Godwin  and  I  all  but 
quarrelled  ;  both  were  a  little  angry  and  equally  offensive  to  each  other. 
Godwin  was  quite  impassioned  in  asserting  his  hope  that  Buonaparte  may  be 
successful  in  the  war.  He  declares  his  wish  that  all  the  allies  that  enter 
France  now  may  perish  and  affirmed  that  no  man  who  did  not  abandon  all 
moral  principles  and  love  of  liberty  could  wish  otherwise.  I  admitted  that  in 
general  foreigners  have  no  right  to  interfere  in  the  government  of  a  covintry 
but  in  this  case  I  consider  foreign  armies  as  coming  to  the  relief  of  the  people 
against  the  oppressions  of  domestic  soldiers  ;  and  in  this  lies  the  justice  of  the 
war. 

With  Wordsworth  he  walks  and  talks  and  travels.  He  discusses 
his  poetry  and  reports  his  opinions.  In  1816  we  find  him  on  foot 
and  Wordsworth  on  horseback  having  a  long  walk  in  the  rain. 

In  the  close  and  interesting  conversation  we  kept  up  Mr.  Wordsworth  was 
not  quite  attentive  to  the  road  and  we  lost  our  way.  ...  He  is  an  eloquent 
speaker  and  he  talked  upon  his  own  art  and  his  owii  works  very  feelingly  and 
very  profoimdly  but  I  camaot  state  more  than  a  few  intelligible  results  for 
I  own  that  much  of  that  he  said  was  above  my  comprehension  [then  follow 
notes  with  regard  to  his  poems]. 

They  travelled  together  in  Switzerland  in  1820  and  in  Italy  in 
1837.    Wordsworth  dedicated  Memorials  of  a  Tour  in  Italy  to  him. 
Here  is  a  description  of  Shelley : 

1817.  I  went  to  Godwin's.  Mr.  Shelley  was  there.  I  had  never  seen  him 
before.  His  youth  and  a  resemblance  to  Southey  particularly  ui  liis  voice 
raised  a  pleasing  impression  which  was  not  altogether  destroyed  by  his  con- 
versation though  it  is  vehement,  and  arrogant  and  intolerant. 

Crabb  Robinson  was  one  of  the  few  who  recognized  the  genius 
of  Keats.     He  notes  ; 

There  is  a  force  wUdness  and  originality  in  the  works  of  this  young  poet 
which,  if  his  perilous  jotirney  to  Italy  does  not  destroy  him,  promise  to  place 
him  at  the  head  of  our  next  generation  of  poets. 

Out  of  his  gallery  of  portraits  we  should  choose  the  picture  of 
Blake  as  being  the  best.     It  begins  : 

Shall  I  call  Blake  artist,  genius,  mystic  or  madman  ?     Probably  he  is  all. 

I  foimd  him  in  a  small  room  which  seems  to  be  both  a  working  room  and  a 
bedroom.  Nothing  coiald  exceed  the  squalid  air  both  of  the  apartment  and 
his  dress ;   yet  there  is  difiused  over  him  an  air  of  natural  gentility. 

And  he  gives  the  substance  of  several  conversations.  Of 
Goethe  there  is  a  great  deal  when  he  revisits  Weimar  in  1829. 
He  writes  about  the  lectures  of  Hazhtt  and  Coleridge  which  he 


HENRY  CRABB   ROBINSON  847 

attends,  but  as  Sir  Sidney  Colvin  says  "  he  lacked  the  touch  which 
should  have  made  his  record  live."  It  is  impossible  to  go  on  picking 
out  passages  about  the  host  of  celebrities.  The  diary  and  reminis- 
cences may  be  a  more  or  less  fruitful  hunting  ground  for  their 
biographers.  Our  object  here  is  to  find  Crabb  Robinson  himself, 
and  this  fortunately  we  can  do. 

We  can  pass  over  his  legal  experiences,  his  careful  recording  of 
fees  he  receives  ;  we  can  pass  over  his  travels,  his  adventures 
with  a  tipsy  man  and  with  a  thief  in  the  Strand,  and  his  first 
journey  in  a  train. 

His  meeting  in  the  coach  with  Incledon,  the  singer,  who  "  sang 
in  a  sort  of  song  whisper  some  melodies  "  to  him,  is  entertaining,  as 
also  his  description  of  the  wholesale  christening  of  a  large  number 
of  babies  in  a  Manchester  church,  when  he  "  could  not  repress 
the  irreverent  thought  that  being  in  the  metropolis  of  manu- 
factures the  aid  of  steam  and  machinery  might  be  brought  in." 
We  need  only  mention  his  love  of  playgoing  and  his  admiration 
for  Mrs.  Siddons.  Like  a  true  diarist  he  notes  little  details  such 
as  a  visit  to  the  dentist,  "  who  put  in  a  natural  tooth  in  the  place 
of  one  I  swallowed  yesterday."  In  the  thirty-five  volumes  there 
is  probably  much  more  of  the  private  particulars  which  editors 
think  it  right  to  omit. 

But  there  are  two  passages  of  self-analysis  and  introspection 
which  reveal  the  man,  and  probably  many  more  of  these  would 
be  found  in  the  full  manuscript. 

Surve3dng  the  year  at  the  end  of  1815  he  says  : 

I  do  not  now  fear  poverty.  I  am  not  nor  ever  was  desirous  of  riches  but 
my  wants  do  not  perhaps  increase  in  proportion  to  my  means.  My  brother 
Thomas  makes  it  a  reproach  to  me  that  I  do  not  indulge  myself  more.  This 
I  do  not  think  a  duty  and  shall  probably  not  make  a  practice.  1  hope  I 
shall  not  contract  habits  of  parsimony. 

In  1816  he  analyses  his  own  disposition. 

Sometimes  I  regret  a  want  of  sensibility  in  my  nature  but  when  such  casea 
of  perverted  intensity  of  feeling  are  brought  to  my  observation,  I  rejoice  at 
my  neutral  apathetic  character.  .  .  .  The  older  I  grow  the  more  I  am  satisfied 
on  prudential  groiinds  with  the  constitution  of  my  sensitive  nature.  I  am 
persuaded  that  there  are  very  few  persons  who  suffer  so  little  pain  of  all  kinds 
as  I  do  ;  and  if  the  absence  of  vice  be  the  beginning  of  virtue  so  the  absence 
of  suffering  is  the  beginning  of  enjoyment.  I  must  confess,  however,  that  I 
think  my  own  nature  an  object  of  felicitation  rather  than  applause. 

This  passage,  which  is  probably  quite  just,  gives  a  clue  to  his 
apparent  failure  to  detect  the  finer  shades  of  feeling  and  the 
somewhat  superficial   character  of  his   criticism  of  others. 


348  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

But  he  has  his  moments  of  depression.     In  1820  he  writes: 

It  qmte  affects  me  to  remark  the  early  decay  of  my  faculties.  I  am  so 
lethargic  that  I  shall  soon  be  vmable  to  discharge  the  ordinary  business  of 
life  ;  and  as  to  all  pretentions  to  literary  taste  this  I  must  lay  aside  entirely. 
How  wretched  is  that  state,  at  least  how  low  is  it  when  a  man  is  content  to 
renounce  all  claim  to  respect  and  endeavours  only  to  enjoy  himself  !  Yet 
I  am  reduced  to  this.  When  my  vivacity  is  checked  by  age  and  I  have  lost 
my  companionable  qualities  I  shall  then  have  nothing  left  but  a  little  good 
nature  to  make  me  tolerable  even  to  my  old  acquaintances. 

After  writing  this  he  lived,  however,  for  forty-six  years  with 
his  faculties  unimpaired.     At  the  end  of  this  year  he  notes 

a  deeper  conviction  than  I  ever  had  of  the  insignificance  of  my  own  character. 

His  last  words  at  the  end  of  1823  are : 

As  to  myself  I  have  become  more  and  more  desirous  to  be  religious  but 
seem  to  be  further  off  than  ever.  Whenever  I  draw  near,  the  negative  side 
of  the  magnet  works  and  I  am  pushed  back  by  an  invisible  power. 

On  New  Year's  Eve,  1836,  he  sits  up  late,   and 

when  the  year  expired  I  was  reading  Dibdin's  "  Life  " — a  significant  occupa- 
tion for  in  idle  amusement  and  faint  pleasure  was  the  greater  part  of  the  now 
closing  year  spent.  Such  are  my  frivolous  habits  that  I  can  hardly  expect 
to  live  for  any  profitable  purpose  either  as  respects  myself  or  others. 

But  under  this  he  notes  in  1854  with  some  self-complacency : 

I  wrote  this  sincerely  in  my  sixty  first  year.  My  life  has  been  more  actively 
and  usefully  spent  since  I  have  been  an  elderly  man. 

On  religion  he  writes  in  1839 : 

Oh  how  earnestly  do  I  hope  that  I  may  one  day  be  able  to  believe  !  ,  But  I 
feel  the  faith  must  be  give7i  me  ;  I  cannot  gain  it  for  myself.  I  will  try,  but 
I  doubt  my  power  energetically  to  will  anything  so  pure  and  elevated. 

Crabb  Robinson's  old  age  must  certainly  have  been  the  most 
remarkable  part  of  his  life.  He  kept  his  diary  fully  and  regularly 
up  to  January  31, 1867,  five  days  before  his  death  at  the  age  of  92, 
so  he  is  the  oldest  diarist  of  whom  we  have  a  record.  At  86  we  find 
him  climbing  to  the  top  of  an  omnibus  (not  by  the  spacious  staircase 
of  the  modern  omnibus  but  by  the  narrow  vertical  ladder  of  sixty 
years  ago).  At  90  he  goes  to  the  play  and  enjoys  Twelfth  Night, 
and  only  at  91  when  he  goes  for  the  last  time  does  he  confess  he  had 
httle  pleasure  owing  to  "  half  deafness  and  dimness  of  sight." 

At  a  dinner  when  he  was  87  he  notes  : 


MARY  SHELLEY  349 

I  felt  at  my  ease  and  from  habit  can  repeat  my  old  stories  still  with  some 
eSect.  And  I  now  perceive  why  old  men  repeat  their  stories  in  company. 
It  is  absolutely  necessary  to  their  retaining  their  station  in  society.  When, 
they  originate  nothing  they  can  profit  their  juniors  by  recollections  of  the  past. 

He  is  able  to  take  quite  a  detached  point  of  view,  and  notes 
the  httle  lapses  and  failures  of  age,  so  to  speak,  from  outside. 
On  his  ninetieth  birthday  he  writes  : 

My  birthday.  To-day  I  complete  my  ninetieth  year.  When  people  hear 
of  my  age  they  affect  to  doubt  my  veracity  and  caU  me  a  wonder.  It  is 
unusual  I  beheve  for  persons  of  this  age  to  retain  possession  of  their  faculties. 
The  Germans  have  an  uncomplimentary  saying  "  Weeds  don't  spoil." 

Undismayed  at  91  he  begins  "  a  new  clean  volume  "  of  his 
diary,  although  he  adds  : 

The  probability  is  that  I  shall  never  finish  this  volume.  If  alive,  I  shall  not 
be  able  to  do  so. 

Nearing  the  end  he  has  his  occasional  depressions,  as  when  he 
says  : 

I  awoke  early  as  is  now  usual  with  me  ;  and  I  was  in  a  musing  mood, 
ruminating  in  an  old-fashioned  way.  All  my  musings  turned  to  self-reproach. 
Were  I  a  man  of  sensibility  or  acuteness  I  know  not  what  would  become  of  me, 
I  could  not  endure  myself. 

And  later : 

To-day  I  have  felt  really  well  and  I  hope  that  when  the  hour — the  last  hour — 
comes  I  shall  not  disgrace  it. 

In  the  very  last  entry  he  begins  writing  about  an  essay  "  on  the 
qualifications  of  the  present  age  for  criticism,"  but  he  leaves  off 
in  the  middle  of  a  sentence  with  the  words  :  "  But  I  feel  incapable 
to  go  on." 

Crabb  Robinson's  diary  has  been  quoted  times  without  number 
by  biographers  and  essayist  writers  on  the  early  nineteenth 
century  poets.  Nevertheless  our  contention  would  still  appear 
to  hold  good  that  the  diarist  rather  than  the  subjects  on  which 
he  writes  is  the  study  which  attracts  the  most. 


MARY  SHELLEY 

HOGG  in  his  Life  of  Shelley  tells  us  that  Shelley  "  kept  a 
regular  journal  of  his  daily  life  recording  day  by  day  all 
that  he  did  read  and  wrote."     Perhaps  this  diary  was 
little  more  than  brief  memoranda,  anyhow  it  does  not  seem  to  be 


350  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

in  existence.  Mary  kept  a  journal  of  their  travels,  beginning 
in  1814,  in  which  Shelley  made  several  entries  at  first,  but  the 
latter  part  is  entirely  hers.  This  was  published  under  the  title  of 
Journal  of  a  Six  Weeks'  Tour.  But  after  this  Mary  continued 
to  keep  a  diary  practically  to  the  end  of  her  life,  and  a  large 
number  of  extracts  from  it  are  published  in  her  biography  by 
Mrs.  Julian  Marshall. 

Had  Mary  been  the  wife  of  an  obscure  man  it  is  improbable 
that  any  extracts  from  her  diary  would  have  ever  found  their 
way  into  print.  There  is  nothing  at  ail  remarkable  about  it. 
Nevertheless,  from  the  brief  record  of  their  wanderings  and  occupa- 
tions, side  light  is  cast  on  the  poet's  curious  and  uncomfortable 
domestic  circumstances. 

Mary  was  a  child  of  17  when  she  started  off  on  her  adventures. 
It  is  impossible  to  enter  into  the  involved  relationships  of  the 
various  women  who  figure  in  Shelley's  life's  story.  Harriet  is  in 
the  background,  Jane  Clairmont  accompanies  them,  and  Mary's 
parents  the  Godwins  obtrude  into  the  picture  incessantly.  One 
or  two  of  Shelley's  entries  at  the  beginning  put  a  httle  life  and 
spirit  into  the  record,  which  disappear  when  Mary  alone  is  respon- 
sible for  the  diary. 

(Shelley.)  In  the  evening  Capt.  Davidson  came  and  told  us  that  a  fat  lady- 
had  arrived  who  said  I  had  run  away  with  her  daughter  ;  it  was  Mrs.  Godwin. 
Jane  spent  the  night  with  her  mother. 

It  may  be  explained  for  those  who  are  not  closely  conversant 
with  the  story,  that  Jane  was  Mrs.  Godwin's  daughter  and  Mrs. 
Godwin  was  Mary's  step-mother. 

(Shelley. )  Mary  is  not  well  and  all  are  tired  of  wheeled  machines.  Shelley 
is  in  a  jocosely  horrible  mood. 

Jane's  strange  vagaries  are  noted;  Shelley  calls  on  Harriet, 
"  who  is  certainly  an  odd  creature  "  ;  wanderings  in  Switzer- 
land and  Italy,  discomforts,  money  troubles,  and  in  almost  every 
entry  the  literature  they  consumed.  The  diary  is  written  in 
the  present  tense  and  when  Mary  takes  up  the  pen  we  get  all  the 
details  about  Shelley's  day,  such  as : 

Shelley  very  unwell — Shelley's  odd  dream — Shelley  and  Jane  go  out  as 
usual — Shelley  goes  out  and  sits  in  another  room  till  5 — Shelley  goes  to  sleep  ; 
at  8  Shelley  rises  and  goes  out — Shelley  reads  Livy — In  the  evening  Shelley, 
Clara  and  Hogg  sleep — [and  so  on]. 

And  then  casualty,  as  if  of  no  more  importance  than  what 


MARY  SHELLEY  351 

Shelley  was  reading  or  doing,  comes  the  birth  of  Mary's  child, 
and  a  week  or  so  later  the  following  entries  concealing  a  tragedy 
which  she  evidently  has  not  time  to  enlarge  on  : 

March  4.  Read,  talk,  nm-se.  Shelley  reads  the  Life  of  Chaucer.  Hogg 
comes  in  the  evening  and  sleeps. 

March  5.  Shelley  and  Cla.ra  go  to  town.  Hogg  here  all  day.  Read  Corinne 
and  nvirse  my  baby.  In  the  evening  talk.  Shelley  finishes  the  Life  of 
Chaucer. 

March  6.  Find  my  baby  dead.  Send  for  Hogg.  Talk.  A  miserable  day. 
In  the  evening  read  Fall  of  the  Jesuits.     Hogg  sleeps  here. 

March  9.  Read  and  talk.  Still  think  about  my  little  baby.  'Tis  hard 
indeed  for  a  mother  to  lose  a  child  .  .  .  Hogg  stays  all  night.  Read  Fontenelle 
Plurality  of  Worlds. 

March  13.  Shelley  and  Clara  go  to  town,  stay  at  home  and  think  of  my 
little  dead  baby. 

March  19.     Dream  that  my  little  baby  came  to  life  again. 

This  thread  of  tragedy  under  the  high  intellectual  effort  of 
keeping  up  to  the  level  of  her  adored  but  evidently  callous  idol, 
by  learning  Greek  and  reading  every  book  under  the  sun,  is  brought 
out  more  vividly  in  these  curt,  bald  entries  than  the  later  tragedy 
of  Shelley's  death  on  which  she  writes  pages  and  pages. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  diary  writing  it  is  interesting  to 
note  that  Mary,  while  Shelley  lived,  absorbed  herself  in  him  and 
only  jotted  down  the  day's  events  to  remind  her  of  every  one  of 
his  movements  and  doings.  After  he  died  she  left  off  noting 
daily  events,  and  poured  herself  into  her  diary  in  immensely  long 
rapturous  ejaculatory  self-communings.  In  her  melancholy 
solitude  she  made  her  diary  her  companion.  But  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  read  much  of  this  sort  of  thing : 

Mine  own  Shelley  !  the  sun  knows  of  none  to  be  likened  to  you — brave  wise 
loble-hearted,  full  of  learning  tolerance  and  love. 

My  heart  shakes  with  its  suppressed  emotions  and  I  flag  beneath  the  thoughts 
;hat  oppress  me. 

Oh  Shelley  dear  lamented  beloved  !  help  me,  raise  me  support  me,  let  me 
lot  feel  ever  thus  fallen  and  degraded  !  my  imagination  is  dead,  my  genius 
ost  my  energies  sleep.     Why  am  I  not  beneath  that  weed  grown  tower  ? 

My  brow  is  sadly  trenched,  the  blossom  of  youth  faded.  My  mind  gathers 
vrinkles.     What  will  become  of  me  ? 

These  are  only  short  sentences  from  the  long  pages,  and  the 
ong  pages  that  are  printed  are  only  extracts  up  to  1840  from  the 


352  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

whole  diary.  It  is  fair  to  say  it  was  never  intended  for  publi- 
cation. It  no  doubt  gave  Mary  great  consolation,  and  it  is  there- 
fore pathetic.  But  pathos  hardly  reaches  a  reader  when  a  diarist 
without  any  striking  personahty,  or  real  intellectual  perception, 
hfts  all  restraints  to  this  extent.  There  are  entries  about  her 
friendship  with  Tom  Moore,  her  quarrel  with  Jane,  her  writing, 
and  in  1838  she  makes  a  lengthy  self-examination  which  is  not 
very  interesting.     She  died  in  1851. 


ADMIRAL  COCKBURN 

ON  his  return  from  service  in  the  American  war,  Rear- 
Admiral  Sir  George  Cockbum  was  ordered  early  in  1815  i 
to  hold  himself  in  readiness  off  Spithead,  war  ha\dng 
broken  out  again  with  France.  In  August  he  received  orders 
to  hoist  his  flag  on  H.M.S.  NoHhumberland,  and  to  convey  General 
Buonaparte  to  St.  Helena. 

On  this  voyage  Cockbum  kept  a  daily  diary  which  is  ex- 
clusively concerned  with  his  conversations  with  and  the  doings 
of  the  fallen  Emperor.  It  is  an  example  of  a  diary  in  which  the 
special  object  for  which  it  was  kept  entirely  absorbs  everything. 
Cockbum  probably  was  not  naturally  a  diary  \mter,  but  the 
exceptional  circumstances  induced  him  to  make  notes  durmg 
this  voyage,  and  these  notes  therefore  contain  none  of  the  per- 
sonal touches  common  to  most  private  diaries.  He  writes  clearly 
and  concisely,  but  his  position  in  command  prevents  him  from 
extracting  from  his  eminent  prisoner  such  reflections  and  ex- 
pressions of  opinion  as  might  have  been  ehcited  by  some  one 
in  a  position  of  less  responsibihty,  nor  has  he  sufficient  hterary, 
abihty  to  rise  fully  to  the  height  of  his  great  opportunity. 

In  any  detailed  analysis  of  this  brief  journal  we  should  soon 
find  ourselves  discussing  Napoleon  and  not  Cockbum.  The  con- 
versations are  all  reminiscent :  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  the  pre- 
parations for  the  invasion  of  England,  the  marriage  with  Marie 
Louise,  the  characters  of  the  mlers  of  Europe,  the  murder  of  the 
Due  d'Enghien  and  many  other  episodes  in  the  past— all  qmte 
matter  of  fact,  no  personal  or  pliilosophic  rumination  over  thei 
ex-Emperor's  dramatic  change  of  fate.  j 

Buonaparte  is  occasionally  sulky  and  morose,  but  this  generally 
seems  to  be  when  the  weather  is  bad.  Otherwise  he  talks  away, 
plays  chess  and  cards  at  night,  and  appears  to  be  quite  cheerful. 


ADMIRAL  COCKBURN  353 

We  will  give  an  entry  describing  a  typical  day  : 

On  Aug.  19.  Ovir  weather  was  moderate  with  a  pleasant  breeze  from  the 
N.W.  General  Buonaparte  since  on  board  the  Northumberland  has  kept 
nearly  the  same  hours  :  he  gets  up  late  (between  ten  and  eleven)  :  he  then  has 
his  breakfast  (of  meat  and  wine)  in  his  bedroom,  and  continues  there  in  his 
deshabille  imtil  he  dresses  for  dinner,  generally  between  three  and  four  in  the 
afternoon  :  he  then  comes  out  of  his  bed  cabin  and  either  takes  a  short  walk 
on  deck  or  plays  a  game  of  chess  with  one  of  his  Generals  Lintil  the  dinner  hour 
which  is  five  o'clock.  At  dinner  he  generally  eats  and  di'inks  a  great  deal  and 
talks  but  little  ;  he  prefers  meats  of  all  kinds  highly  dressed  and  never  touches 
vegetables.  After  dinner  he  generally  walks  for  about  an  hour  or  ho\ir  and 
a  half  and  it  is  during  these  walks  that  I  usually  have  the  most  free  and  pleasant 
conversations  with  him.  About  eight  he  quits  the  deck  and  we  then  make  up 
a  game  of  cards  for  him  in  which  he  seems  to  engage  with  considerable  pleasure 
and  interest  until  about  ten  when  he  retires  to  his  bedroom  and  I  believe  almost 
immediately  goes  to  bed.  Such  a  life  of  inactivity  with  the  quantity  and 
description  of  his  food  makes  me  fear  he  will  not  retain  his  health  through 
the  voyage  ;  he  however  as  yet  does  not  appear  to  suffer  any  inconvenience 
from  it. 

We  get  a  little  of  Cockburn  himself  in  the  following  entries, 
which  show  his  determination  not  to  stand  any  nonsense  from 
his   distinguished  passenger. 

Aug.  10.  It  is  clear  he  is  still  inclined  to  act  the  Sovereign  occasionally  but 
I  cannot  allow  it,  and  the  sooner  therefore  he  becomes  convinced  it  is  not  to  be 
admitted  the  better. 

Aug.  13.  I  did  not  see  much  of  General  Buonaparte  throughout  this  day 
as  owing  to  his  appearing  inclined  to  try  to  assume  again  improper  consequence 
I  was  purposely  more  than  usual  distant  with  him  and  therefore  though  we 
exchanged  common  salutations  and  high  looks  nothing  passed  between  us 
worth  noticing. 

Aug.  14.  The  General  and  myself  were  again  distant  and  high  with  each 
other,  though  perfectly  civil — at  least  he  has  been  as  much  so  as  his  nature 
(which  is  not  very  polished)  eeems  capable  of. 

The  next  day  is  Buonaparte's  birthday.  The  Admiral  drinks 
his  health  and  the  civility  is  appreciated  and  relations  become 
easier  again.  The  last  entry  is  dated  October  22,  from  St.  Helena, 
where  the  Admiral  leaves  us  with  a  picture  of  the  Conqueror  of 
half  Europe  playing  at  whist  with  the  ladies  "  for  sugar  plums." 

The  Admiral's  secretary  kept  a  copy  of  the  journal.  The  MS. 
was  found  and  printed  in  1888. 


23 


354  ENGLISH  DIARIES 


S 


LADY  MALCOLM 

TR   PULTENEY  MALCOLM  succeeded  Admiral  Cockburn 
in  the  naval  command  at  St.  Helena  in  June,  1816.     He  wa^ 
W>  there  for  a  year.     A  Diary  of  St.  Helena  contams  entnes 
tog  t^t  period  made  by  his  wife.    The  diary  .s  w„  ten  with 
S  restraint  in  the  third  person  in  almost  an  official  tone,  and 
contins   hardly    any   feminine   touches.     Moreover,    mtcrviews 
TZ.tTl  wWch  she  herself  was  not  P-ent  -d  wh^eh 
therefore  were  taken  down  from  her  h^^^d^d^*^^  °^-  JJ^^ 
acrimonious  disputes  between  Buonaparte  and  Sir  Hud^o^.Y'r' 
the  Governor,  are  recorded,  and  in  one  instance  the  whole  dialogue 
is  given  L  fuU.     The  writer's  bias  does  not  appear  to  be  on  the 
Lvemor"  side,  and  this  can  be  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that 
SrSon  Lowe  did  not  manage  to  be  on  particularly  good  terms 
even  Sher  husband,  the  Admiral.     There  are  many  of  the  same 
slrt  oTrem^niscent  remarks  from  Buonaparte  as  m  the  previous 
dlarv     H™s  very  friendly  in  his  intercourse  with  Lady  Malcohn, 
and'on  S  departure  gives  her  a  valuable  P'-  of  ctoa  -ma^^k- 
ing  that   "Ladies   had   more   compassionate   hearts  than   men 
for  an  obiect  of  misfortune." 

L^y  Malcolm's  graphic  description  of  Buonaparte's  appear- 

ance  may  be  quoted  in  full : 

His  hair  of  a  brown  black  thin  on  the  forehead,  cropped  but  not  thin  in  the 

high  nos^-short  upper  lip  ,  gooaw  full— pale  complexion— 

but  had  become  too  fat      a  thick  short  na  f  threadbare 

nails  and  a  well  shaped  leg  and  foot.     He  was  dre^^^?  ^  ^     ^^^ 

oval  gold  buckles.     She  was  struck  with  ^^e  ™iess  ^^  P 

the  least  graceful. 

The  diary,  edited  by  Sir  A.  Wilson,  was  pubUshed  in  1899. 


HENRY  MATTHEWS  355 


HENRY  MATTHEWS 

THE  Diary  of  an  Invalid,  published  in  1819,  had  a  con- 
siderable success  and  went  into  several  editions.  Byron 
and  many  other  people  of  the  time  expressed  their  appre- 
ciation of  it.  Henry  Matthews  was  a  Fellow  of  King's  College, 
Cambridge.  He  left  England  in  1817  on  account  of  his  health, 
and  kept  a  journal  of  two  years'  travel  in  Portugal,  Italy,  Switzer- 
and,  and  France — a  journal,  he  says,  "  written  to  amuse  the 
hours  of  indisposition  without  any  idea  of  publication."  How- 
ever, on  his  return  he  was  persuaded  by  his  friends  to  pubhsh  it ; 
and  though  tempted  at  first  to  work  it  up  "  in  a  more  serious 
and  sustained  style  of  composition,"  he  eventually  kept  the 
journal  just  as  he  had  written  it  with  very  httle  alteration. 

In  the  days  before  Ruskin  and  Hare,  when  guide-books  were 
tio  doubt  dry  and  imperfect,  one  can  imagine  that  such  a  book 
as  this  was  welcome.  It  is  written  without  method  or  any 
didactic  learning  and  gives  the  daily  impressions  of  a  cultivated 
mind  on  art  and  nature  without  any  sort  of  affectation  or  pose. 
A  few  little  personal  touches  and  health  notes  which  occur  natur- 
ally in  diary  writing  add  considerably  to  the  charm  of  the  author's 
simple  style,  and  his  oAvn  opinions,  often  very  decided,  never  jar. 
Travelling  in  those  days  was  still  really  travelhng  and  not  whirling 
blindly  from  one  populous  centre  to  another.  He  describes  his 
method  in   Italy : 

Left  Rome  at  sunrise — My  carriage  is  a  sort  of  buggy  on  four  wheels  drawn 
by  a  single  horse.  My  bargain  with  my  voiturier  is  to  be  taken  to  Florence 
n  six  days  and  to  be  fed  and  lodged  on  the  road  ;  for  which  I  am  to  give  him 
wenty  dollars.  The  pace  is  tiresome  enough  at  first ;  for  the  horse  seldom 
juits  his  walk  even  for  an  equivocal  amble  ;  but  if  you  have  no  particular 
object  in  getting  on  you  soon  become  reconciled  to  this.  Besides  it  afiords 
imple  leisure  for  surveying  the  country  and  gratifying  your  curiosity  at  any 
aarticular  point  where  you  wish  to  deviate  from  the  road  ;  for  you  may  easily 
)vertake  your  carriage. 

On  travelling  alone  he  says  : 

I  doubt,  aU  things  considered,  whether  it  be  not  better  to  travel  by  yourself 
han  with  a  companion.  It  is  true  you  may  not  always  please  yoiu'self,  but 
Ton  may  at  least  bear  with  your  own  ill  humour.  If  you  could  select  the  very 
!ompanion  you  would  wish,  it  might  alter  the  case  ;  though  it  seems  fated  that 
tU  travelling  companions  should  fall  out ;  and  history  is  fuU  of  instances 
rom  Paul  and  Barnabas  down  to  Walpole  and  Gray — So  I  jog  on,  contented 
it  least  if  not  happy,  to  be  alone. 


356  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

His  illness  occasionaUy  interferes  with  his  enjo\Tnent : 

My  health  grows  worse  and  worse  !  Constant  irritation-Day  without 
rest^nisht  wifhout  sleep  ;-at  least  sleep  without  repose  and  rest  without 
vZ^TiL  n  hie  with  health  and  wealth  and  aU  "  apphances  and  mean,  to 
Ct  be  nothing  but  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit  what  as  it  alas  !  when 
deprived  of  all  these  embelUshments  ? 

And  he  sometimes  faUs  into  a  philosophic  vein  : 

Those  are  the  wisest  and  happiest  who  can  pass  through  1^«  ff  ^  P^^ J 
^ho-without  making  a  farce  of  it  and  turning  everythmg  mto  richciJe-or 
^^^t'the  opposite  extreme  of  tragedy-consider  the  -^^ole  penod  from 
Z^Ue  to  the  coffin  as  a  well  bred  comedy  ;  and  mamtam  a  cheertul  We 
to  the  very  last  scene.  For  what  is  happiness  but  a  WiU  o'  the  ^\  isp,  a  delu- 
don  a  tSa  incognita-in  pursuit  of  which  thousands  are  tempted  out  of  the 
harbour  of  tranqxXy  to  b^  tossed  about,  the  sport  of  tb^  -n^^  ^P-^^ 
and  the  waves  of  disappointment,  to  be  wrecked,  perhaps,  at  la.t  on  the  rocks 
o?  d^pair  ;-uBless  th^"  be  pro^-ided  with  the  sheet  anchor  of  rehgion-the 
only  anchor  that  will  hold  in  all  weathers. 

In  Rome  he  sees  the  Pope  from  afar  only  : 

Ash  Wednesday.  Ceremony  in  the  Pope's  Chapel-sprinkhng  of  ash^on 
thfSaiTthe  cLdinals-Mass  as  usual-I  have  dechned  bemg  pre«ent^  to 
ffis  iXi  thinking  with  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  that  when  the  kxssmg  of  the 
toe  is  left  out  the  ceremony  is  deprived  of  all  amusement. 

The  opera  at  Naples : 

Visited  the  opera  for  the  first  time.  Of  all  the  stupid  things  in  the  world 
a  seriou?  opera  is  perhaps  the  most  stupid  and  the  opera  to-mght  formed  no 
Lcept'ntrt^  oServa?ion.  The  theatre  is.  I  beUeve,  the  l-g-t  m  Europ^ 
^atl  certainly  too  large  for  the  singers  whose  voices  sound  hke  penny 
trumpets  on  Salisbury  Plain. 

The  many  descriptions  of  scener>',  buildings,  pictures,  etc.  of 
which  the  dian-  of  course  is  chiefly  composed,  are  never  affw^ted 
or  laboured.  He  brings  them  in  naturaUy  as  he  P^^f^'  f  d^^' 
admirations  are  expressed  ^"ith  comincmg  restraint.  We  vnil 
just  give  one  instance  of  a  scene  from  Fiesole : 

There  is  something  deUghtfully  pleasant  in  the  voluptuous  1^^°^/^^^ 
the  soft  air  of  anlSian  landscape  occasions  ;  and  then  t^^^f  f  ^°^jf.^^ 
ItaUan  sunset  !  I  shaU  never  forget  the  impression  ^f^f^'^'^^^J^^^ 
lar  evening.  The  sun  had  just  gone  down  leavmg  the  sky  dyed  with  the  nch^ 
^ts  oT^nson-while  the  virgin  sno.^  on  the  distant  -o"-^-- ^^^^^^ 
with  blushes  of  •'  celestial  rosy  red  "  ;  when  from  an  opposite  q^^«^  f  ^^ 
SaverL^here  seemed  to  rise  another  sun  as  large  as  bright  as  glowing  as  tha^ 
wMch^djSt  departed.  It  was  the  moon  at  the  full  ^— f  ^he  ^^J^^^^J^ 
rS>mpleti,  that  iTrequired  some  minutee  to  convmce  me  that  I  was  not  u 

Fairy  Land. 


HENRY  FYNES   CLINTON  357 

He  breaks  off  occasionally  into  literary  criticisms  and  appre- 
ciations. For  instance,  he  visits  Femey,  which  naturally  causes 
him  to  write  a  good  deal  about  Voltaire.  He  does  not  Uke  him, 
and  concludes  his  remarks  as  follows  : 

His  physiognomy,  which  is  said  to  have  been  a  combination  of  the  eagle 
and  the  monkey  was  illustrative  of  the  character  of  his  mind.  If  the  soaring 
wing  and  piercing  eye  of  the  eagle  opened  to  him  all  the  regions  of  knowledge 
it  was  only  to  collect  materials  for  the  gratification  of  that  apish  disposition 
which  seems  to  have  delighted  in  grinning  with  a  malicious  spirit  of  mockery 
at  the  detected  weaknesses  and  infirmities  of  human  nature.  Though  a  man 
may  often  rise  the  wiser  yet  I  believe  none  ever  rose  the  better  from  the  perusal 
of  Voltaire. 

His  wanderings  last  from  September  6,  1817,  to  June  10,  1819. 
He  passes  with  his  seeing  eye  from  one  place  to  another,  a  little 
weary  sometimes  of  the  constant  moving  and  packing. 

Packing  up  ;  this  is  a  melancholy  part  of  a  travellers  life  ;  to  arrive  and 
hear  no  welcome — to  depart  and  hear  no  farewell — or  if  he  remain  stationary 
for  a  time  to  be  called  away  just  as  he  is  beginning  to  form  new  connexions. 

Matthews  was  no  egotist,  on  the  contrary  he  travelled  to  forget 
himself  and  his  ailments.  But  a  refined  and  charming  nature 
can  be  felt  behind  the  record.  He  was  afterwards  given  a  judicial 
appointment  in  Ceylon,  where  he  died  in  1828,  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
eight. 

Another  nineteenth-century  diary  of  travel  may  just  be  men- 
tioned here  by  way  of  contrast.  Edwin  Rickman  published  The 
Diary  of  a  Solitaire  in  1835  with  a  long  preface  and  copious  notes. 
It  is  an  account  of  travel  in  Switzerland,  but  his  observations 
are  very  trite  and  commonplace.  The  only  interest  lies  in  the 
notes,  which  contain  biographical  reminiscences  and  an  account 
of  the  Society  of  Friends,  of  which  he  was  a  member. 


HENRY  FYNES   CLINTON 

IN  1854,  the  Rev.  Charles  Fynes  Clinton  published  a  volume 
entitled  The  Literary  Remains  of  Henry  Fynes  Clinton,  which 
consists  of  part  of  an  autobiography  and  of  a  journal  kept 
from  1819  to  1852.  In  his  desire  to  do  justice  to  his  brother's 
great  scholarship  and  piety,  he  has  eliminated  so  far  as  he  could 
matters  of  a  personal  nature  because,  he  says,  "  they  would  be 
uninteresting  to  the  reader."     He  made,  of  course,  a  very  great 


358  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

mistake.  It  is  a  glaring  instance  of  a  diary  being  spoilt  by 
editorship.  However  much  we  may  be  amazed  at  the  range 
and  profundity  of  Henry  Fynes  Clinton's  literary  and  classical 
studies,  and  however  much  we  may  admire  the  high  moral  tone 
of  his  reUgious  views,  he  is  removed  from  us  and  presented  as 
somebody  of  an  abnormal  type  by  the  unfortunate  cutting  of 
all  the  little  humdrum  and  perhaps  trifling  incidents  which  are 
the  human  links  which  make  readers  conscious  of  the  hving 
man  in  a  diarist.  Luckily  there  are  cliinks  in  the  shutters,  and 
we  do  catch  glimpses  now  and  again  of  the  more  domestic  and 
hghter  side  of  the  austere  scholar. 

His  father,  Dr.  Fjmes  Clinton,  rector  of  Cromwell,  was  a  direct 
descendant  of  the  Earl  of  Lincoln,  ^  who  died  in  1616.  Henry  was 
bom  in  1781,  and  was  educated  at  Westminster  and  Christ  Church, 
Oxford.  There  was  an  idea  of  his  taking  orders,  but  this  was 
abandoned,  and  he  entered  ParHament  at  the  age  of  26.  He  never 
took  to  political  life,  he  was  never  interested  in  it,  and  he  never 
spoke.  His  talents  and  ambitions  were  gradually  turned  into 
another  channel,  and  although  he  remained  in  Parliament  for 
nineteen  years  and  kept  up  a  more  or  less  regular  attendance,  his 
absorbing  interest  was  centred  in  his  scholastic  and  hterary 
studies.  The  only  parliamentary  references  in  the  diary  are  the 
bare  record  of  divisions.  A  few  quotations  may  be  given  to  show 
his  views  on  this  subject. 

1819.  My  love  of  letters  begins  to  revive  wliich  has  been  dormant  or 
extinct  for  some  time  past  and  an  inward  alacrity  and  cheerfulness  conse- 
quently succeeds  to  that  spirit  of  despondency  and  dissatisfaction  which  I 
have  lately  felt.  I  perceive  that  I  can  never  be  a  public  speaker  ;  but  I 
observe  that  those  whose  lives  have  been  passed  as  eminent  public  speakers 
have  not  in  general  the  faculty  of  being  good  writers.  ...  I  %vill  not  because 
Nature  has  denied  me  the  gifts  of  an  orator  \mwisely  overlook  or  neglect  the 
advantages  and  the  usef  illness  of  that  literature  of  which  I  may  yet  be  capable. 

In  the  same  year  his  cousin  the  Duke  of  Newcastle  encourages 
him  to  endeavour  to  get  an  official  post  in  the  Treasury.  But  he 
assures  the  Duke  that  he  feels  himself  "  destitute  of  the  gift  of 
public  speaking  and  of  the  requisites  for  succeeding  in  debate." 
He  entirely  abandons  the  idea. 

^  Sir  Henry  Fynes,  Lord  Lincoln's  son,  took  the  name  of  Clinton.  There 
is  a  most  entertaining  autobiographical  fragment  from  his  pen,  which  unfor- 
tunately caimot  be  included  as  a  diary.  In  it  he  describes  his  second  wife  as 
having  proved  "  so  jealous  so  malincholy,  so  angry,  pevish  and  capsius,  so  < 
proud  and  conseated  and  so  full  of  devilish  and  mireformable  humours  " 
{Qeniietnan's  Magazine,  1772). 


HENRY  FYNES   CLINTON  859 

As  to  the  higher  official  stations  I  am  convinced  that  I  am  not  fit  for  them  : 
and  as  to  the  lower  offices  they  are  not  fit  for  me. 

And  when  in  1826  he  leaves  Parliament  and  surveys  the  past, 
he  concludes  : 

AH  these  causes  concvirring  have  contributed  to  render  me  as  far  as  public 
speaking  is  concerned  an  inefficient  Member  of  Parliament. 

But  he  finds  ample  compensation  in  his  studies,  which  indeed 
were  of  so  profound  a  nature  as  to  occupy  his  time  and  thoughts 
almost  exclusively,  so  that  he  looked  on  Parliament  while  he  was 
in  it  merely  as  an  interruption  to  his  work.  In  fact,  every  interval 
that  was  not  filled  with  reading  and  WTiting  he  came  to  regard 
not  only  with  regret  but  with  dread.  Here  are  some  of  his 
reflections  on  the  subject : 

1820.  While  I  am  without  literary  object  my  mind  preys  on  itself.  When 
shall  I  be  able  to  return  to  those  studies  and  literary  occupations  which  are 
so  necessary  to  the  health  of  my  faculties  ? 

1822.  As  I  advance  in  the  experience  of  life  the  more  am  I  convinced  of 
the  importance  of  these  literary  pursuits.     They  are  in  my  case  a  duty. 

1824.  Now  that  my  researches  are  brought  to  a  kind  of  period  I  fear  a 
recurrence  of  desponding  thoughts.  I  dread  a  cessation  of  employment. 
When  unemployed  my  mind  recoils  upon  itself.  Any  uncomfortable  cir- 
cumstances press  upon  my  attention  and  fill  me  with  painful  apprehensions. 
These  are  forgotten  while  my  mind  is  exercised  with  some  literary  object. 

1830.  A  literary  object  is  necessary  to  me  for  my  mind's  health  and  for  my 
moral  safety. 

And  in  1834,  after  the  completion  of  a  bit  of  work,  he  holds 
a  long  discourse  with  liimself  in  which  this  passage  occurs  : 

You  devoted  yourself  to  that  kind  of  literary  labour  for  which  you  were  most 
fitted.  You  have  found  in  those  labours  a  refuge  from  cares  and  disquietudes 
of  life  and  a  salutary  discipline  for  your  own  mind  ;  a  security  against  the 
dangers  of  an  vmoccupied  life.  You  are  to  give  God  thanks  for  His  mercies 
not  only  in  calling  you  to  this  course  of  literary  labo\ir  and  service  but  in 
supporting  you  under  it  during  so  many  years.  .  .  .  What  rettu-n  are  you  to 
make  to  God  for  all  His  mercies  who  has  brought  you  to  your  fifty  fourth  year 
in  the  possession  of  health  and  leisure  and  of  your  intellectual  faculties  ?  Are 
you  now  to  cast  away  all  diligence  and  rest  in  inaction  ?     Assuredly  not. 

And  consequently  he  bucldes  to  again. 

And  of  what  did  his  studies  consist  ?  His  diary  he  calls  a 
literary  journal,  and  it  consists  mainly  in  a  minute  register  of  the 
books  he  read  and  the  books  he  was  writing.  The  works  which 
occupy  him  are  entirely  classical  and  theological.     He  had  a 


360  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

perfect  knowledge  of  Latin  and  Greek,  as  well  as  French.  In 
fact,  many  entries  in  the  diary  are  in  Greek  or  Latin  or  a  mixture 
of  both.  The  constant  lists  of  the  books  he  is  reading  show  an 
amazing  power  of  mastering  not  only  well-known  classics  but 
obscure  and  recondite  authors.  Every  book  is  mentioned,  some 
analysed ;  the  time  occupied  over  each  one  noted  and  the  actual 
number  of  pages  digested  carefully  entered.  Page  after  page 
of  this  sort  of  thing  may  well  make  most  readers  feel  ignorant 
and  many  readers  rather  dizzy.  The  hst  of  books  he  is  engaged 
in  reading  in  1819  is  as  follows  : 

Plato  Repub  : .      .      .    pp    403 

Aristot.  Hist.  Anim  : 319 

Lsocratis          78 

Joseph!  Bell.  Jud.  439) 

—  Vita                    8l| 520 

Hippocratis 1482 

Eusebii  Praep.  Ev:     1100) 

-Hist.  E:                 580J ^*^^" 

Theonis  Progymn  : 88 

Callimachus 47 

DionysivLS  Perieget : 40 

Eustachii  Schol : 326 

Libanii  : 217 

Ciceronis  Orat : 913 

Curtius 452 

Taciti  Hist : 307 


6872 

And  there  are  many  daily  entries  mentiom'ng  one  or  two  par- 
ticular books.     Here  is  another  example  of  a  period  : 

1824.  May  14.  Since  March  4  these  studies  :  Marbre  de  Choiseul,  in 
Mem.  Acad,  torn  XL VIII  :  Scholia  in  EuripidLs.  Phoeniss.  ed.  Matthias  = 
pp  400  :  Zenobius,  pp  112  :  Diogenianus  pp  56  :  Boeckh.  de  Tragicis  Graecis  : 
Theordoreti  Sermones  XII  =  pp  327  the  first  254  folio  pages  of  Scholia  in 
Hermogenem  ed.  Aid.  besides  collecting  materials  from  Sjnicellus,  Sulpicius 
Severus  and  Scaligeri  Eusebius  for  enlarging  and  correcting  Fast.  Hell. 
Appendix  c.  18. 

Whatever  may  be  our  feehngs  of  amazement  we  have  no  feelings 
of  en^y.  However,  his  Fasti  Hellenici  and  his  Fasti  Bomani, 
published  between  1824  and  1850,  had  a  considerable  success 
and  went  into  several  editions.  He  was  also  engaged  on  a  Scrip- 
ture Chronology  which  began : 

years  B.C. 

From  Adam  to  the  Flood 2256  3157 

To  the  birth  of  Abraham 1002  2155 


HENRY  FYNES  CLINTON  361 

There  seems  to  be  very  little  in  the  way  of  Uterary  appreciation 
in  the  journal.  He  is  a  sort  of  Hterary  statistician.  He  is  actually 
engaged  at  one  time  in  calculating  how  many  letters  in  each  page 
are  contained  in  Latin  and  Greek  authors.  However  arid  his 
studies  were,  nevertheless  his  industry  was  astonishing. 

It  was  a  bitter  disappointment  to  Fynes  Clinton  when  he  was 
passed  over  for  the  apijointment  of  Chief  Librarian  at  the  British 
Museum  in  1827.  His  great  desire  for  the  post  is  apparent  in  the 
diary,  but  he  does  not  indulge  in  one  word  of  complaint  when  he 
fails.  In  fact,  he  strove  successfully  throughout  his  life  against 
"  the  indulgence  of  vain  regrets  and  an  unsatisfied  mind  "  which 
forms  the  subject  of  his  prayers.  These  prayers,  which  need  not 
be  quoted,  occur  in  many  entries,  sometimes  in  Latin.  ("  His 
diebus  graviter  vexatus  curis  :  Deo  me  commendo  in  quo  spes  omnis.") 

In  1809  he  married  Harriott  Wylde,  who  died  in  the  following 
year.  In  1812  he  married  Katherine  Majendie,  daughter  of  the 
Bishop  of  Bangor,  who  helps  liim  with  the  education  of  his 
children,  to  which  he  naturally  attaches  great  importance.  He 
gives  a  full  account  of  her  lessons  with  them,  ending  :  "  It  is  just 
that  I  should  give  this  testimony  to  her  maternal  diUgence." 
He  refers  frequently  to  his  children,  and  there  are  several  entries 
when  he  is  surveying  his  hfe,  in  which  there  is  a  good  deal  of 
humanity    and    atmosphere. 

For  instance,  when  he  leaves  his  house  at  Welwyn  he  writes  : 

My  wife  and  children  left  Welwyn  for  London  at  twelve.  I  remained  till 
four.  After  they  were  gone,  I  passed  an  hour  in  the  walk  in  the  field  occupied 
with  many  sorrowful  thoughts  at  the  remembrance  of  the  many  satisfactions 
which  God  had  granted  me  in  that  place,  in  past  years.  I  offered  up  a  separate 
prayer  for  each  of  the  children.  I  returned  to  my  own  room,  the  scene  of 
my  literary  labours  ;  I  there  again  prayed  earnestly  for  my  dear  son,  whose 
instruction  had  now  for  four  years  and  a  half  formed  a  part  of  my  daily  occupa- 
tion in  that  apartment.  When  I  seated  myself  for  the  last  time  in  my  own 
chair  in  the  place  which  I  had  been  used  to  occupy  every  day  at  eleven  o'clock, 
I  was  for  a  little  space  completely  overcome. 

He  made  an  entry  in  liis  diary  on  October  23,  1852,  the  day 
before  he  died,  noting  that  he  had  received  the  Holy  Sacrament. 

Although  the  journal  is  preceded  by  autobiographical  notes, 
it  would  not  appear  that  Fynes  Chnton  contemplated  its  pub- 
Ucation.  Some  interesting  observations  of  his  on  diary  writing 
are  quoted  in  the  Introduction. 


362  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

MARY  BROWNE 

A  S  a  girl  of  14,  Mary,  the  daughter  of  William  Browne,  of 
/\  Tallentire  Hall,  in  Cumberland,  kept  a  diary  for  one  year, 
I  V  in  1821,  in  order  to  record  the  visit  she  paid  with  her 
family  to  France.  It  is  a  child's  diary  of  an  entirely  natural  and 
unsensational  character,  and  it  would  be  hardly  worthy  of  any 
special  attention  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  it  is  copiously  iUus- 
trated.  As  a  writer  Mary  was  advanced  for  her  age  ;  she  makes 
no  grammatical  errors  and  hardly  uses  any  childish  expressions. 
As  an  artist  she  was  not  so  advanced,  but  she  was  far  more 
original,  and  the  drawings  of  the  various  types  she  saw,  afeowwe,  a 
fisherwoman,  a  priest,  soldiers,  market  women,  etc.,  etc.,  show 
not  only  a  childish  faithful  accuracy,  but  an  enterprising  spon- 
taneity wliich  is  quite  indi\ddual. 

The  amusing  part  of  the  actual  diary  is  her  hatred  of  France 
and  the  French,  and  her  frantic  desire  to  come  home. 

The  French  people  do  not  seem  to  think  it  wrong  to  cheat  or  lie  or  the  least 
disgraceful  to  be  told  they  do  so. 

The  French  women  have  not  good  figures  ;  the  old  women  are  very  fat  and 
the  others  are  as  flat  as  two  boards  ...  the  French  children  are  old  fashioned, 
dull,  grave  and  ugly  ;   like  little  old  women  in  their  appearance. 

They  say  that  the  French  like  dancing  better  than  anything  and  we  heard 
it  very  much  admired.  For  my  part  I  think  it  is  neither  graceful  nor  pretty 
nor  merry. 

Although  one  hears  so  much  of  French  politeness  I  do  not  think  that  the 
French  are  near  so  pohte  as  the  Enghsh.  The  men  make  better  bows  etc. 
but  in  other  things  there  is  a  kind  of  forwardness  in  the  manners  of  the  people 
that  I  cannot  admire. 

I  cannot  tell  what  made  me  dislike  France  so  very  much  ;  one  reason  I 
think  was  that  I  raised  my  expectations  too  high.  I  had  heard  so  much  of  the 
^ne  climate,  the  excellent  fruit  and  the  lively  people,  that  I  was  quite  disap- 
pointed at  the  cold  weather,  the  bad  fruit  and  the  duU  people. 

Uncomfortable  lodgings,  processions,  fairs,  fountains  and 
various  other  sights  and  experiences  are  all  simply  and  carefully 
related  and  illustrated. 

The  school  is  well  described  and  various  masters  and  mistresses 
who  taught  there,  including  the  writing  master,  who 

used  to  sit  down  at  one  end  of  the  table  and  never  move ;  he  had  a  curious 
squeaking  voice.  I  could  never  find  out  what  he  did  except  mendmg  pens 
and  those  were  so  bad  that  we  were  obliged  to  get  Madame  Crosnier  to  mend 
them  afterwards. 


RICHARD  HURRELL  FROUDE  363 

Great  was  her  joy  on  returning  home.  The  special  flavour  of 
this  child's  impressions  of  France  in  the  early  nineteenth  century 
is  lost  without  her  amusing  pictures. 

The  diary  was  published  in  1905.  The  authoress,  who  became 
a  keen  naturalist,  used  her  artistic  talent  in  making  pictures  of 
flowers  and  butterflies.     She  died  at  the  early  age  of  26. 


RICHARD  HURRELL  FROUDE 

THERE  is  only  a  short  diary  of  two  years  kept  by  Froude, 
brother  of  the  historian,  friend  of  Newman,  and  one  of 
the  leaders  of  the  Oxford  Movement.  He  has  been 
described  as  a  Catholic  without  Popery,  and  a  member  of  the 
Church  of  England  without  Protestantism.  The  diary  begins 
in  1826,  when  he  was  23  and  a  tutor  at  Oriel.  This  was  before 
he  was  ordained  and  some  time  before  the  Tracts  for  the  Times 
were  issued,  to  which  he  contributed.  There  is  nothing,  there- 
fore, in  the  diary  of  any  public  interest,  but  it  is  a  revelation  of 
character,  as  it  is  entirely  introspective.  It  is  one  long  chapter 
of  self-condemnation  and  attempts  at  self-discipline  with  occa- 
sional prayers,  and  there  is  a  certain  pettiness  about  it  which  makes 
one  almost  prefer  Thomas  Turner's  unsuccessful  efforts  to  cure 
his   hopeless   drunkenness. 

Froude  was  encouraged  to  keep  a  journal  by  reading  his 
mother's.  He  thought  it  would  help,  "  as  I  find  I  want  keeping 
in  order,"  and  he  appears  to  have  enjoyed  pulling  himself  up  in 
very  trivial  lapses.  It  would  almost  seem  as  if  people  who  have 
to  combat  great  temptations  prefer  not  to  speak  or  write  about 
them,  while  those  who  want  to  correct  small  failings  make  a  great 
deal  of  them.  He  enjoyed  self-condemnation  and  speaks  of  his 
"  enthusiastic    misery." 

We  need  only  give  a  series  of  instances  of  the  morbid  self- 
disciplinary  outpourings  which  fill  the  diary : 

I  am  in  a  most  conceited  way  besides  being  very  ill  tempered  and  irritable. 

Not  a  very  profitable  day  but  in  some  respects  better,  my  odd  feeling,  I 
hope,  is  passing  away  as  what  I  wrote  yesterday  seems  nonsense  and  almost 
affectation. 

To-day  I  have  eaten  beyond  the  bounds  of  moderation.  I  must  make  a 
vigorous  stand  or  I  shall  be  carried  away  altogether. 


864  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Looked  with  greediness  to  see  if  there  was  a  goose  on  the  table  for  dinner  ; 
and  though  what  I  ate  was  of  the  plainest  sort  and  I  took  no  variety  yet  even 
this  was  partly  the  effect  of  accident  and  I  certaioly  rather  exceeded  in  quan- 
tity as  I  was  muzzy  and  sleepy  after  dinner. 

As  far  as  I  have  observed  yet  the  strongholds  of  the  evil  spirit  within  me 
are  inertness,  disingenuousness,  bullying  and  levity. 

Was  ashamed  to  have  it  known  that  I  had  no  gloves.  Talked  about  matters 
of  morality  in  a  way  that  might  leave  the  impression  that  I  thought  myself 
free  from  some  vices  I  censured.     This  was  imintentional  but  silly. 

I  have  a  sort  of  vanity  which  aims  at  my  own  good  opinion. 

Pleased  myself  with  fancying  I  was  not  common  place. 

Ate  very  little  though  I  was  very  himgry  but  because  I  thought  the  charge 
unreasonable  I  tried  to  shirk  the  waiter — sneaking. 

Disgustingly  self  complacent  thoughts  have  kept  continually  obtruding 
themselves  upon  me  on  the  score  of  my  little  paltry  abstinences.  What  I 
give  up  costs  me  no  great  effort. 

Was  disgiistingly  ostentatious  at  dinner  in  asking  for  a  china  plate  directly 
as  I  had  finished  my  meat. 

I  am  obliged  to  confess  that  in  my  intercourse  with  the  Supreme  Being  I 
am  become  more  and  more  sluggish. 

Read  aSectedly  in  evening  chapel. 

I  must  be  energetic  about  abstinence  or  I  shall  quickly  drop  back  into  lazy 
fatness. 

Yet  he  does  not  think  his  journal  gives  an  accurate  picture  of 

himself : 

Have  read  my  journal.  I  can  hardly  identify  myself  with  the  person  it 
describes. 

This  diary  was  certainly  never  intended  for  publication,  but 
his  friends  thought  fit  to  include  it  in  his  "  Remains."  He  died 
at  the  age  of  33  in  1836. 


W.  E.  GLADSTONE  ^ 

IN  his  Life  of  Gladstone,  Lord  Morley  tells  us  that  amongst 
the  vast  mass  of  material  he  had  at  his  disposal  were  forty-four 
volumes  of  diaries,  "  little  books  in  double  columns  intended 
to  do  httle  more  than  record  persons  seen  or  books  read  or  letters 

1  The  Diary  extracts  are  quoted  from  The  Life  of  William  Ewart  Gladstone, 
by  John  Morley,  with  the  kind  permission  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  trustees  and 
Messrs.  Macmillan  &  Co. 


W.   E.   GLADSTONE  365 

written  as  the  days  passed  by."  Gladstone  himself  advised  one 
of  his  sons  at  Oxford  "  to  keep  a  short  journal  of  principal  em- 
ployments in  each  day  :  most  valuable  as  an  account  book  of  the 
all  precious  gift  of  Time."  But,  as  his  biographer  says  in  speak- 
ing of  his  social  activities,  "  he  seems  to  have  thought  that  little 
of  what  passed  was  worth  transcribing  nor  in  truth  had  Mr.  Glad- 
stone ever  much  or  any  of  the  rare  talent  of  the  born  diarist." 

Throughout  the  Life  a  number  of  quotations  are  given  from 
the  diaries,  many  of  them  just  one  hne  or  a  couple  of  sentences. 
Some  of  these  brief  jottings  become  pregnant  with  meaning  when 
they  are  placed  side  by  side  with  other  and  fuller  accounts  of 
the  events  they  record.  But  there  is  an  entire  absence  of  any- 
thing intimate  or  domestic — such  entries,  if  they  exist,  are  omitted. 
That  they  are  omitted  we  gather  from  Lord  Morley  saying  that, 
in  using  the  diary,  he  must  "  beware  of  the  sin  of  violating  the 
sanctuary."  There  are  a  few  reflections  on  life,  but  for  the  most 
part  books,  speeches,  political  and  parliamentary  activities  form 
the  subjects  of  his  notes.  And  it  is  all  strenuous,  lofty  and  pro- 
found to  an  extreme  degree.  In  fact,  Gladstone's  diary,  or  as 
much  of  it  as  we  are  allowed  to  see,  by  no  means  brings  him 
down  from  his  pedestal  to  the  level  of  an  ordinary  mortal ;  and 
for  that  reason,  wliile  our  admiration  may  be  great,  our  sympathy 
is  hardly  ever  reached. 

He  began  his  diary  when  he  was  at  Eton,  and  kept  up  the 
habit  for  practically  seventy  years.  The  school  entries  are 
brief  notes  chiefly  of  his  studies.  Here  is  one  on  the  Eton  speech 
day: 

Feb.  27.  1827.  Holiday.  Dressed  (knee  breeches  etc.)  and  went  into 
school  with  Selwyn.  Foimd  myself  not  at  all  in  a  funk  and  went  through  my 
performance  with  tolerable  comfort.  Dumford  followed  me,  then  Selwyn 
who  spoke  well.     Horrors  of  speaking  chiefly  in  the  name. 

At  Oxford  records  of  his  studies  continue.  We  catch  a  refer- 
ence to  card  playing  in  the  following  : 

1830.  Sep.  4.  Same  as  yesterday.  Paradise  Lost.  Dined  with  the  Bishop. 
Cards  at  night.  I  like  them  not  for  they  excite  and  keep  me  awake.  Constru- 
ing Sophocles. 

In  the  following  year  his  speech  at  the  Union  was  so  powerful 
and  briUiant  that  one  of  his  contemporaries  wrote  that  when 
Gladstone  sat  down  "we  all  of  us  felt  that  an  epoch  in  our  lives 
had  occurred."     But  this  is  aU,  we  get  in  the  diary  : 

Cogitations  on  Reform  etc.     Difficult  to  select  for  a  speech,  not  to  gather  it. 


366  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Spoke  at  the  adjourned  debate  for  three  quarters  of  an  hour  immediately 
after  Gaskell  who  was  preceded  by  Lincobi.  Bow  afterwards  and  adjourn- 
ment.    Tea  with  Wordsworth. 

The  fact  of  reflecting  rather  than  the  nature  of  his  reflections 
is  generally  what  he  notes. 

1833.  Thought  for  some  hours  on  my  own  future  destiny  and  took  a 
solitary  walk  to  and  about  Kensington  Gardens. 

.  .  .  not  too  unwell  to  reflect. 

That  he  should  have  kept  a  diary  at  all  regularly  during  his 
long  and  arduous  parliamentary  career  is  in  itself  a  notable 
fact.  The  brief  entries  show  with  what  tremendous  seriousness 
he  undertook  his  public  duties.  Prayer,  and  one  might  almost 
say  fasting,  seemed  to  accompany  the  formation  of  his  projects 
and  his  private  deliberations,  and  of  course  an  immense  amount 
of  reading. 

As  Gladstone's  oratory  was  his  greatest  accompUshment, 
we  may  select  a  few  references  to  show  how  he  notes  in  his  diary 
his  performances  on  some  of  the  most  celebrated  occasions. 

His  maiden  speech  in  1833  : 

Dined  early.  Re-arranged  my  notes  for  the  debate.  Rode.  House  5  to  1. 
Spoke  my  first  time  for  50  minutes.  My  leading  desire  was  to  benefit  the 
cause  of  those  who  are  now  so  sorely  beset.  The  House  heard  me  very  kindly 
and  my  friends  were  satisfied. 

It  may  be  noted  in  many  of  the  entries,  only  a  few  of  which 
can  be  given  here,  that  his  impressions  with  regard  to  his  powers 
of  speaking  are  extraordinarily  modest,  not  to  say  humble,  and 
form  a  great  contrast  to  the  unlimited  conceit  displayed  by  his 
great  rival,  Disraeli,  on  the  same  subject. 

In  1835,  on  speaking  in  the  House  of  Commons,  he  writes  : 

I  cannot  help  here  recording  that  this  matter  of  speaking  is  really  my 
strongest  religious  exercise.  On  all  occasions  and  to-day  especially  was 
forced  upon  me  the  humiliating  sense  of  my  inability  to  exercise  my  reason  in 
the  face  of  the  House  of  Conunons  and  of  the  necessity  of  my  utterly  failing 
unless  God  gave  me  the  strength  and  language.  It  was  after  aU  a  poor 
performance  but  would  have  been  poorer  had  He  never  been  in  my  thoughts 
as  a  present  and  powerful  aid. 

1836: 

Spoke  50  minutes  kindly  heard  and  I  should  thank  God  for  being  made  able 
to  speak  even  thus  indifierently. 

His  Budget  speech  of  1860  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  most 


W.   E.   GLADSTONE  867 

extraordinary  triumphs  ever  witnessed  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
yet  he  was  not  well  at  the  time. 

Spoke  5-9  without  great  exhaustion  ;  aided  by  a  great  stock  of  egg  and 
wine.  Thank  God  !  Home  at  11.  This  was  the  most  arduous  operation  I 
have  ever  had  in  parUanient. 

1871.  His  famous  speech  at  Blackheath  in  the  open  air  to 
several  thousand  people. 

My  expedition  to  Greenwich  or  rather  Blackheath  I  spoke  1  h.  50  m.  ;  too 
long,  yet  really  not  long  enough  for  a  full  development  of  my  points. 
Physically  rather  an  excess  of  effort.     AU  went  well  thank  God  ! 

1877.  His  speech  on  the  Eastern  question  was  described  thus  by 
Mr.  A.  J.  Balfour  :  "  As  a  feat  of  parliamentary  courage,  parha- 
mentary  skill,  parhamentary  endurance  and  parliamentary 
eloquence  I  beheve  it  will  be  unequalled." 

His  diary  record  is  as  follows  : 

House  at  i^.  For  over  two  hours  I  was  assaulted  from  every  quarter 
except  the  opposition  bench  which  was  virtually  silent.  Such  a  sense  of 
solitary  struggle  I  never  remember.  At  last  I  rose  on  the  main  question 
nearly  in  despair  as  to  the  result ;  but  resolved  at  least  not  to  fail  through  want 
of  eSort.  I  spoke  2J  hours  voice  lasting  well.  House  gradually  came  round 
and  at  last  was  more  than  good.  It  was  over  at  9-30.  Never  did  I  feel 
weaker  and  more  wormlike. 

On  the  introduction  of  the  Home  Rule  Bill  in  1886 : 

The  message  came  to  me  this  morning  "  Hold  thou  up  my  goings  in  thy 
path  that  my  footsteps  slip  not."  Settled  finally  my  figures  with  Welby  and 
Hamilton  ;  other  points  with  Spencer  and  Morley.  Reflected  much.  Took  a 
short  drive.  H.  of  C.  4^  to  SJ.  Extraordinary  scenes  outside  the  House  and 
in.  My  speech  which  I  have  sometimes  thought  could  never  end  lasted  nearly 
3|  hours.  Voice  and  strength  and  freedom  were  granted  to  me  in  a  degree 
beyond  what  I  could  have  hoped.  But  many  a  prayer  had  gone  up  for  me 
and  not  I  believe  in  vain. 

Cabinet  meetings  are  noted  with  brief  entries  such  as  : 

Cabinet  2-4J.     Again  stiS.     But  I  must  not  lose  heart. 

His  interviews  with  the  Queen  are  also  devoid  of  any  detail 
or  colour. 

Went  to  Windsor  to  take  my  leave.     H.M.  short  but  kind. 

Gave  H.M.  my  paper  with  explanation  which  appeared  to  be  well  taken. 
She  was  altogether  at  ease. 

On  the  Ughter  side  there  is  very  little.  Occasional  references 
to  play  going,  such  as  : 


868  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Went  to  Drury  Lane  to  see  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra  how  low  our  stage  has 
fallen.  Miss  K.  V.  [Kate  Vaughan]  in  the  ballet  dressed  in  black  and  gold, 
danced  marvellously. 

At  9-30  to  the  Gaiety,  saw  a  miserable  burlesque  of  which  I  had  heard  a 
most  inviting  but  false  account. 

And  of  course  there  are  references  to  his  favourite  exercise, 
wood  cutting : 

Forenoon  with  Bright  who  departed  having  charmed  everybody  by  his 
gentleness.     Began  the  cutting  of  a  large  beech. 

Revised  and  sent  off  long  letter  to  Lord  Granville  on  the  political  situation. 
Axe  work.  .  .  .  Tree  cutting  with  Herbert. 


-'o 


Like  many  diarists,  Gladstone  takes  a  survey  either  on  his 
birthday  or  at  the  end  of  the  year,  and  these  entries  are  rather 
longer. 

His  closing  entry  in  1856  begins : 

It  appears  to  me  that  there  are  few  persons  who  are  so  much  as  I  am  en- 
closed in  the  invisible  net  of  pendent  steel.  I  have  never  known  what 
tedium  was,  have  always  found  time  full  of  calls  and  duties,  life  charged  with 
every  kind  of  interest.  But  now  when  I  look  calmly  around  me,  I  see  that 
these  interests  are  for  ever  growing  and  grown  too  many  and  powerful  and 
that  were  it  to  please  God  to  call  me  I  might  answer  with  reluctance. 

In  1861  on  his  birthday  he  writes  : 

Begun  my  fifty  second  year.  I  cannot  believe  it.  I  feel  within  me  the 
rebellious  unspoken  word.     I  will  not  be  old. 

In  1864 : 

I  am  weU  past  half  a  century.  My  life  has  not  been  inactive.  But  of  what 
kind  has  been  its  activity  ?  Inwardly  I  feel  it  to  be  open  to  this  general 
observation  ;  it  seems  to  have  been  and  to  be  a  series  of  efiorts  to  be  and  to 
do  what  is  beyond  my  natural  forces. 

1873: 

Sixty  fotir  years  completed  to-day — what  have  they  brought  me  ?  A 
we  aker  heart,  stiffened  muscles,  thin  hairs  ;  other  strength  still  remains  in 
my  frame. 

In  1886  there  is  a  long  entry,  out  of  which  the  following  passage 
may  be  quoted : 

O  for  a  birthday  of  recollection.  It  is  long  since  I  have  had  one.  There 
is  so  much  to  say  on  the  sovl's  history  but  bracing  is  necessary  to  say  it,  as  it 
is  for  reading  Dante.  It  has  been  a  year  of  shock  and  strain.  I  think  a  year 
of  some  progress  ;    but  of  greater  absorption  in  interests  which  though  pro- 


THOMAS   RAIKES  869 

foundly  human,  are  quite  off  the  line  of  an  old  man's  direct  preparation  for 
passing  the  River  of  Death." 

In  his  retirement  at  the  age  of  85,  he  resolves  to  break  off 
"  the  commonly  dry  daily  journal  or  ledger,"  and  to  note  only 
principal  events  and  occupations.  The  entries  arc  longer.  He 
deals  with  his  faiUng  eyesight,  his  health,  and  his  contentment 
at  having  at  last  retired.  "  I  cast  no  longing  lingering  look  be- 
hind," but  "  I  must,  God  knows  how  reluctantly,  lay  burdens 
upon  others."  The  last  entry  is  on  his  birthday  in  1896,  and 
begins  : 

My  long  and  tangled  life  this  day  concludes  its  87th  year. 

And  he  makes  the  pregnant  remark  already  quoted  in  the 
Introduction  with  regard  to  the  practical  impossibility  of  writing 
honestly  on  "  interior  matters." 

The  last   words  are : 

Lady  Grosvenor  gave  me  to-day  a  delightful  present  of  a  small  crucifix. 
I  am  rather  too  independent  of  symbols. 

Throughout  the  diary  there  are  a  good  many  health  notes,  and 
references  to  sleep,  which  he  valued  very  highly. 

Perhaps  it  is  as  well  that  we  find  no  frivolous  comments,  no 
trivial  jottings,  no  indiscreet  lapses  in  Gladstone's  diary.  Some 
giants  may  remain  giants,  and  seldom  can  a  strenuous  life  have 
been  filled  with  more  deeply  conscientious  motive  and  more  sus- 
tained rehgious  discipline.  But  it  was  certainly  not  out  of  his 
diary  that  his  biographer  was  able  to  build  up  the  great  and 
dramatic  story  of  Gladstone's  career. 

Mrs.  Gladstone  kept  a  diary,  too,  a  few  quotations  from  which 
occur  in  Mrs.  Drew's  memoir  of  her.  We  may  allow  ourselves 
to  relax  into  a  smile  for  once  at  this  entry : 

Engaged  a  cook  after  a  long  c  onversation  on  religious  matters  chiefly 
between  her  and  William. 


THOMAS  RAIKES 

A  S  social  and  semi-political  diaries  go,  the  one    kept    by 

/  \     Thomas  Raikes  between  1831  and  1847  is  very  readable. 

Ji    jJL  If  one  were  more  interested  in  the  author,  one  would 

be  more  interested  in  the  diary.    We  are  told  that  he  was  "  a 

24 


370  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

member  of  fashionable   clubs   and   mixed  largely   in   the   best 
society  "     He  was,  therefore,  in  a  position  to  collect  a  great  deal 
of  tittle-tattle  both  in  London  and  in  Paris,  where  he  subsequently 
resided.     His    strong    pohtical    bias    gives    some    colour    to    his 
writing.     He  does  not  disguise  his  mistrust  of  reformers  :      What 
monsters  the  Radicals  really  are,"  he  exclaims,  and  declares  that 
"political  hberty  should  be  restrained  withm  narrow  hmits. 
He  makes  disparaging  remarks  about  Lord  Grey,  and  dismisses    ^ 
Cobbett  as  "a  bone-grabber."     He  is  a  friend  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,   with   whom   he   has   several   conversations.     When 
the  day  gives  him  no  material  for  his  diary  he  falls  back  on  recol- 
lections.    In  this  way  he  gives  pages  of  gossipy  remniiscences 
of  the  Duke  of  York,  Beau  Brummel,  and  others.     In  France  he 
writes  very  fully  about  the  pohtical  situation  and  court  news, 
and   of  course   TaUeyrand's    pecuharities,    including    his    toilet 
come  in  for  elaborate  descriptions.     He  quotes  newspaper  and 
magazine    articles— one  of  several  pages  by    George   Sand  on 
Talleyrand-and    gives    extracts    of   letters    from    GreviUe    and 
others.     When  he  travels  he  puts  a  good  deal  of  colour  into  his 
descriptions,  and  some  of  his  many  anecdotes  are  of  the  most 
sensational  character.     In  his  weather  remarks  one  feels  he  re- 
gards the  sun  as  a  celebrity  whose  vagaries  must  be  noted. 

This  sort  of  diary  must  be  a  godsend  to  newspaper  snippet 
writers.  As  fashions  revolve  in  cycles  this  comment  on  young 
ladies'  clothes  would  be  quite  up  to  date  to-day  : 

Les  robes  ressemblent  a  un  mauvais  jour  d'hiver  qui  commence  trop  tard  et 
finit  trop  t6t. 

He  hardly  ever  moraUzes.  But  we  find  this  at  the  end  of  an 
entry  describing  how  one  of  his  friends  has  gone  mad : 

Perfect  happiness  seems  impossible  ;  but  a  system  of  compensation  appears 
throughout  to  kindly  and  wisely  equalise  our  lots.  No  prosperity  without 
Bome  aUoy;  no  adversity  without  some  paUiation.  Our  only  course  is 
gratitude  and  submission. 

Once  on  his  birthday  he  reflects,  and  it  is  with  some  surprise 
that  we  find  a  note  of  deep  depression  in  the  mood  of  the  club  man 
and  purveyor  of  gossip  : 

1836.  Oct.  3.  My  birthday  :  formerly  a  day  of  congratulation  with  my 
family  and  friends  but  now  only  remembered  in  private  by  myself  as  a  point 
in  the  year  which  marks  a  continuation  of  misfortune  and  an  advance  to  th^ 
grave.  I  have  likewise  remarked  that  of  late  years  some  bad  news  is  received 
or  some  disappointment  or  cross  event  occurs  upon  that  day,  as  a  sort  ot 
prelude  to  the  coming  year. 


FANNY  KEMBLE  371 

But  he  tells  us  nothing  whatever  of  his  private  occupations, 
his  wife  or  his  domestic  life.  Raikes  published  Letters  from  St. 
Petersburg  and  Paris  since  1830.  His  diary  was  published  in 
1856,  or  rather  portions  of  it.  The  whole  manuscript  is  probably 
much  longer  and  fuller. 


FANNY  KEMBLE  (Mrs.   Butler) 

WE  are  told  that  Fanny  Kemble  had  an  attractive  per- 
sonality, and  we  can  well  believe  it  when  we  read  her 
journal.  While  the  Httle  volumes  which  record  her 
tour  in  America  with  her  father  in  1832  and  1833  of  course  cannot 
be  compared  to  the  lifelong  diary  of  the  greater  Fanny,  never- 
theless there  is  a  happiness  of  expression  and  freshness  of  pre- 
sentation in  her  spontaneous  daily  entries  which  give  her  a 
claim  to  rank  high  among  diarists. 

Born  in  1809,  she  made  her  first  appearance  on  the  stage  at 
the  age  of  20  and  became  at  once  a  popular  favourite.  Charles 
Kemble,  her  father,  a  brother  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  was  an  actor  of 
some  distinction,  and  evidently  took  pains  with  the  education 
of  his  daughter,  for  she  shows  a  very  cultivated  literary  and 
artistic  appreciation.  She  is  always  turning  to  her  Dante, 
analysing  her  Shakespeare,  and  discussing  poetry  and  hterature 
with  her  friends.  In  later  life  she  wrote  poems,  plays  and  reminis- 
cences. After  parting  from  Butler,  a  Southern  planter,  whom 
she  married  in  1834,  she  returned  to  the  stage  for  a  while,  and 
then  had  a  great  success  as  a  Shakespearean  reader.  She  died 
in  1873. 

There  is  in  the  diary  a  good  deal  of  sentimental  moralizing, 
ecstasy,  tears,  rather  highly-coloured  scenic  descriptions,  and 
rapturous  apostrophizing  of  her  native  land.  It  is  the  amusing 
and  striking  Httle  notes  of  her  acting  experiences  and  her  adven- 
tures that  form  the  best  part  of  the  diary. 

She  is  never  tired  of  laughing  at  the  American  idea  of  equahty 
and  American  manners. 

Here  they  were  talking  of  their  aristocracy  and  democracy  ;  and  I'm  siire 
if  nothing  else  bore  testimony  to  the  inherent  love  of  higher  things  which  I 
elieve  exists  in  every  human  creature,  the  way  in  which  the  lawyer  dwelt 
pon  the  Duke  of  Montrose  to  whom  he  is  allied  at  the  distance  of  some  niiles 
nd  Lady  Loughborough  whom  heaven  knows  how  he  got  hold  of,  would 
ave  satisfied  me  that  a  rp.y  Lord  or  my  Lady  are  just  as  precious  in  the  eyes 
)f  these  levellers  as  in  those  of  Lord  and  Lady  Loving  Jolin  Bull  himself. 


372  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Father  and  daughter  go  the  round  of  New  York,  Boston, 
Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  etc.,  etc.,  having  to  put  up  with  con- 
siderable discomfort  very  often  and  finding  on  certam  occasions 
very  inadequate  companies  of  actors  to  support  them.  There 
is  a  Mr.  Keppel  who  is  a  high  trial. 

At  eleven  went  to  rehearsal.  Mr.  Keppel  is  just  as  ,^«^°^,^^  ^Pf  J'* 
as  ever  what  on  earth  will  he  or  shall  I  do  to-night  !  .  .  .  Mr.  Keppel  was 
frightened  to  death  and  in  the  very  second  speech  was  quite  o^^  ;  ^t  was  in 
vaL  that  I  prompted  him  he  was  too  nervous  to  take  the  word  and  made  a 
complete  mess  of  it. 

Poor  Mr.  Keppel  is  fairly  laid  on  the  sheU  :  I'm  sorry  for  him  !  What  a 
funny  passion  he  had  by  the  by  for  going  down  on  his  knees.  ^  Fazio^t 
the  end  of  the  judgment  scene  when  I  was  upon  mme  down  he  went  upon  has 
mak'g  the  most  Ibsurd  devout  looking  vis-^-vis  1  ever  beheld^  "J  .^^^^J^^^ 
Sene  too  when  he  ought  to  have  been  going  ofi  to  execution  down  he  went 
agZ  upon  his  knees,  and  no  power  on  earth  could  get  him  up  agam  for  Lord 
loiows  how  long. 

She  describes  "the  fine  and  delicate  work"  in  her  father's 
acting,  and  tells  how  "  there  is  not  one  sentence,  me  or  word 
of  his  part  which  he  has  not  sifted  grain  by  gram,  but  she  re- 
cognizes that  such  refinement  of  acting  is  largely  lost  on  their 
audiences.  But  on  the  whole  she  and  her  father  get  a  splendid 
reception  wherever  they  go.  On  one  occasion  she  is  disturbed 
and  annoyed  by  people  talking  in  the  audience. 

At  one  time  their  impertinent  racket  so  bewildered  me  that  I  was  all  but 
ouf  and  this  without  th^e  audience  once  interfering  to/^^/^^-,^  j:;^ 
however  that  would  have  been  an  unwarrantable  mterference  with  the  sacred 
hblrtles  of  the  people.  I  indulged  them  with  a  very  significant  glance,  and  at 
one  moment  wa^  most  strongly  tempted  to  request  them  to  hold  their  tongues. 

She  is  not  always  satisfied  with  their  performances. 

I  played  like  a  very  clever  girl  as  I  am  ;  but  it  was  about  as  much  like  Lady^ 
Macbeth  as  the  Great  Mogul.     My  father  laboured  his  part  too  much. 

And  more  than  once  she  describes  her  acting  as  "  so-soish.'' 
At  Baltimore  she  has  a  very  clumsy  Romeo.  Here  is  her  account 
of  the  final  scene  : 

In  the  midst  of  "  cruel,  cursed  fate  "  his  dagger  fell  out  of  hi^/^^ffj J' 
exnSracing  him  tenderly,  crammed  it  back  again  because  I  knew  I  should  want 

it  at  the  end. 

Borneo    Tear  not  our  heart-strings  thus  !  ,    ...    . 

They  crack  !    they  break  !    Juliet,  Juliet  !    (dies). 
JuUet  {to  corpse)     Am  I  smothering  you  ?  ,  .    ,    ,     „„„  xy,:„i,  ^  to 

Corpse\to  Juliet)     Not  at  all ;   could  you  be  so  kmd  do  you  think  as  to 

put  my  wig  on  again  for  me  ?   it  has  fallen  ofi. 


( 


FANNY  KEMBLE  373 

Juliet  {to  corpse)     Where's  your  dagger  ? 
Corpse  {to  Juliet)     'Pon  my  soul  I  don't  know. 

She  sometimes  breaks  into  strong  language  with  regard  to  the 
profession. 

An  actor  sha  11  be  self  convicted  in  five  hundred.  There  is  a  ceaseless  striv- 
ing for  effect,  a  straining  after  points  in  talking  and  a  lamp  and  orange-peel 
twist  in  every  action.      How  odious  it  is  to  me  ! 

What  a  mass  of  wretched  mumming  mimicry  acting  is  !  Paste-board  and 
paint  for  the  thick  breatliing  orange  groves  of  the  south  ;  green  silk  and  oiled 
parchment  for  the  solemn  splendour  of  her  noon  of  night ;  .  .  .  rouge  for 
the  startled  life-blood  in  the  cheek  of  tliat  young  passionate  woman  ;  an 
actress,  a  mimicker,  a  sham  creature,  me,  in  fact,  or  any  other  one,  for  that 
loveliest  and  most  wonderful  conception  in  which  all  that  is  true  in  nature  and 
all  that  is  exquisite  m  fancy  are  moulded  into  a  living  form.  To  act  this  !  to 
act  Romeo  and  Juliet  !  horror  !  horror  !  how  I  do  loathe  my  most  impotent 
and  unpoetical  craft. 

The  discomforts  were  sometimes  very  trying. 

Oh  bugs,  fleas,  flies,  ants  and  mosquitoes  great  is  the  misery  you  inflict 
upon  me.  I  sit  slapping  my  own  face  all  day  and  lie  thumping  my  pillow  all 
night ;  'tis  a  perfect  nuisance  to  be  devoured  of  creatures  before  one's  in  the 
ground  ;    it  isn't  fair. 

To  bed — to  sleep. 

To  sleep  !  perchance  to  be  bitten  ay — there's  the  scratch.  And  in  the  sleep 
of  ours  what  bugs  may  come.     Must  give  us  pause. 

There  are  occasional  notes  on  her  health.  But  only  tiredness 
and  once  or  twice  her  voice  troubles  her.  "  Now  I'll  to  bed  :  my 
cough's  enough  to  kill  a  horse,"  is  the  end  of  one  entry. 

During  the  day,  when  not  rehearsing,  she  went  for  rides,  she 
read,  she  sang,  she  embroidered,  she  sketched,  and  she  learned 
German.  In  fact,  she  lived  a  very  full  life.  "  I  want  to  do 
everything  in  the  world  that  can  be  done,"  she  says,  and  again  : 
"  I  wish  somebody  would  explain  to  me  everything  in  the  world 
I  can't  make  out." 

Came  home  at  nine,  tea'd  and  sat  embroidering  tiU  twelve  o'clock,  industrious 
little  me. 

Finished  journal,  wrote  to  Mrs. — to  my  mother,  read  a  canto  of  Dante  and 
began  to  write  a  novel.  Dined  at  five.  After  dinner,  put  out  things  for  this 
evening  played  on  the  piano,  mended  habit  skirt,  dressed  myself  and  at 
quarter  to  ten  went  to  theatre  for  my  father. 

The  diary  contains  a  good  many  religious  reflections,  and  she 
is  a  regular  churchgoer,  but  she  is  not  always  edified,  as  this 
account  of  a  sermon  shows  ; 


374  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  heard  about  as  thorough  a  cock  and  bull  sermon  as  ever  I  hope  to  be 
edified  withal.  What  shameful  nonsense  the  man  talked  !  and  all  the  time 
pretending  to  tell  vis  what  God  had  done,  what  He  was  doing,  and  what  He 
intended  to  do  next,  as  if  he  went  up  into  heaven  and  saw  what  was  going  on 
there  every  five  minutes. 

The  successful  young  actress  of  1922  will  read  with  surprise 
and  amusement  the  following  resolution  of  her  predecessor 
ninety  years  ago  : 

I  promised  him  never  to  waltz  again  except  with  a  woman  or  my  brother. 

After  all  fis  not  fitting  that  a  man  should  put  his  arm  roimd  one's  waist 

whether  one  belongs  to  anyone  but  one's  self  or  not.     'Tis  much  against  what 

I  have  always  thought  most  sacred— the  dignity  of  a  woman  in  her  own  eyes 

and  those  of  others. 

By  and  by  dancing  was  proposed  and  I  was  much  entreated  to  change  my 
determination  about  waltzing  ;  but  I  was  inexorable  and  waltzed  only  with 
the  ladies. 

There  are  many  descriptions  of  minor  episodes  and  adventures 
of  travel  which  are  exceedingly  good.  An  example  of  her  rather 
rich  style  in  depicting  scenery  may  be  given. 

The  lightning  played  without  intermission  of  a  second  in  wide  sheets  of 
piirple  glaring  flame  that  trembled  over  the  earth  for  nearly  two  or  three 
seconds  at  a  time  ;  making  the  whole  world,  river,  sky,  trees  and  buildings 
look  like  a  ghostly  universe  cut  out  in  chalk.  The  light  over  the  water  which 
absolutely  illumined  the  shore  on  the  other  side  with  the  broad  glare  of  full 
day  was  of  a  magnificent  pvirple  colour.  The  night  was  pitchy  dark  too  ;  so 
that  between  each  of  these  ghastly  smiles  of  the  devil  the  various  pale  steeples 
and  buildings  which  seemed  at  every  moment  to  leap  from  nothing  into  exist- 
ence, after  standing  out  in  fearful  relief  against  a  back  ground  of  fire  were 
hidden  Uke  so  many  dreams  in  deep  and  total  darkness. 

A  few  poems  are  inserted  here  and  there,  and  explanatory  notes 
added  by  the  diarist,  when  she  pubhshed  the  volumes  in  1835. 
She  used  to  read  her  diary  out  to  her  father,  and  probably  the 
idea  of  pubHshing  it  was  never  wholly  absent  from  her  mind. 
In  1863  she  pubhshed  another  volume  deahng  with  hfe  on  the 
Georgia  plantation. 


HENRY  GREVILLE 

LIKE   his    brother   Charles,    Henry   Greville  was  practically  ■ 
a  lifelong  diarist.     But  in  the  four  volumes  issued  by  his 
Jl  niece  (the  first  two  in  1883,  the  others  in  1904-5)  there 
is  nothing  of  special  interest  or  importance.     It  is  merely  a  social 


HENRY  GREVILLE  375 

diary,  pleasantly  written  by  a  diplomatist,  courtier,  and  man 
about  town  who  came  in  contact  with  many  interesting  people. 
If  he  wrote  anything  personal  beyond  notes  about  his  health, 
that  part  of  the  diary  has  been  cut  out,  so  we  see  very  little  of  the 
man  himself,  and  beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  socially  popular 
and  had  a  marked  appreciation  of  music  and  acting,  he  only 
appears  like  any  other  collector  of  social  gossip.  This  sort  of 
diary  may  be  of  passing  interest  to  those  who  recollect  the  people 
mentioned  in  it,  and  the  author  was  certainly  placed  in  a  favour- 
able position  as  an  observer,  but  the  bare  mention  of  great  events 
and  great  names  cannot  attract  any  reader,  and  no  real  picture  of 
nineteenth-century  society  is  reflected  in  its  pages. 

Between  1835  and  1844  Henry  Greville  was  in  the  diplomatic 
service,  attached  to  the  Embassy  in  Paris ;  after  he  retired  he 
became  a  gentleman  usher  to  the  Queen.  He  wrote  his  diary 
from  1832  till  shortly  before  his  death  in  1872. 

He  sings  duets  with  the  Duchess  of  Kent ;  he  dines  with  the 
King  of  the  Belgians ;  he  rides  with  the  Duke  of  Orleans ;  he 
goes  frequently  to  Holland  House ;  he  is  present  at  debates  in 
the  French  Chamber  and  in  the  British  Houses  of  ParUament ; 
he  attends  courts,  balls,  operas,  plays,  concerts,  drawing  rooms, 
royal  weddings  and  christenings,  and  he  stays  at  innumerable 
country  houses.  He  does  not  revel  in  it  all ;  for  after  a  heavy 
day  of  court  functions  he  writes,  "  How  I  detest  all  this  sort  of 
thing !  "  But  it  is  very  seldom  that  he  expresses  any  personal 
opinion.  In  addition  to  his  great  quantity  of  friends,  such  as  the 
Granvilles,  Abercorns,  Hollands,  Sydneys,  etc.,  and  the  series 
of  celebrities  he  comes  across,  he  is  closely  acquainted  with  Fanny 
Kemble  and  her  sister,  and  knows  Ristori,  Mario,  Grisi  and  many 
other  singers,  who  often  perform  at  his  own  house.  References 
to  the  young  Lord  Acton  and  Frederick  Leigh  ton,  of  whom  so  much 
was  expected,  would  not  be  without  interest  were  they  not  so 
meagre.     The  following  reference  to  Gladstone  is  amusing : 

He  has  a  melodioiis  voice  in  speaking,  but  I  was  not  prepared  to  hear  a 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  warble  a  sentimental  ballad,  accompanied  by  his 
wife. 

There  are  many  references  to  politics,  and  he  gives  long  accounts 
of  murders,  crimes  and  trials.  He  notes  with  considerable 
feeling  the  death  of  his  friends.  He  comments  on  the  weather 
and  occasionally  on  food,  "  a  maigre  dinner,  quite  excellent." 

When  he  allows  himself  to  record  an  opinion  it  is  very  much 
to  the  point.     He  writes  after  a  Lord  Mayor's  dinner  in  1855 : 


376  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

What  a  joke  and  what  a  farce  it  all  is  to  hear  Palmerston  bespattering  the 
Emperor  of  the  French  with  praises  for  his  noble  disinterestedness  in  fighting 
for  liberty  against  barbarism  and  despotism  !  he  being  the  greatest  living 
despot  in  whose  nostrils  all  liberty  and  especially  that  of  the  Press,  absolutely 
stinks. 

On  what  he  calls  "  the  toggery  of  spirit  rapping  "  he  writes  in 
1862: 

It  would  be  well  if  anytliing  could  put  a  stop  to  this  subject  of  conversation 
which  has  become  a  great  bore  and  which  seems  to  have  taken  strong  hold 
of  the  minds,  not  only  of  foolish  women  but  even  of  men  whom  one  shovild 
not  have  supposed  capable  of  being  occupied  with  and  deluded  by  such 
palpable  humbug. 

If  Henry  Greville  had  only  lived  in  some  obscure  village  and 
written  equally  fully,  his  volumes  would  have  been  of  peculiar 
interest.     But  this  would  have  required  a  different  sort  of  talent. 


EDWARD  PEASE  1 

NO  more  typical  Quaker  diary  could  be  found  than  that 
kept  by  Edward  Pease.  Born  in  1767,  he  hved  to  the 
age  of  91,  but  his  early  diaries  were  destroyed  and  we 
only  have  the  volumes  which  cover  the  last  twenty  years.  Edward 
Pease's  claim  to  fame  rests  on  the  fact  that  he  was  instrumental 
in  projecting  the  first  railway  line,  and  was  a  friend  of  George 
Stephenson,  who  persuaded  him  to  employ  steam  traction. 

Diary  keeping  was  one  of  the  self-disciplinary  exercises  of 
Quakers,  and  Edward  Pease  was  a  very  prominent  member  of  the 
Society  of  Friends.  The  introspection  is  not  the  outcome  of  any 
natural  morbidity.  On  the  contrary,  we  find  a  self-confident 
and  even  self-complacent  optimism  punctuated  by  sincere  at- 
tempts at  self-correction.  In  this  diary  we  get  a  close  view  of  a 
commanding  personahty,  pompous,  prosy  and  rather  self-satis- 
fied, strict  and  simple,  yet  opulent ;  intensely  domestic  and 
religious  in  the  sense  that  prayer  and  self-examination  occupy  a 
considerable  part  of  many  of  the  entries.  As  he  kept  his  diary 
regularly,  the  ups  and  downs  of  his  moods  are  very  distinctly 
reflected. 

Pease  may  not  have  contemplated  publication,   but  he  evi- 
dently thought  that  some  day  some  one  would  read  his  diaries. 

^  The  Diary  extracts  are  quoted  from  The  Diaries  of  Edward  Pease,  by 
kind  permission  of  Sir  Alfred  E.  Pease,  Barjti. 


EDWARD   PEASE  377 

Their  contents  may  never  be  of  any  value  or  interest  to  anyone  but  let  this 
reader  be  informed  that  having  drawn  me  into  self  examination  and  having 
been  an  incentive  to  more  watchfulness  so  far  they  have  not  been  entirely 
without  value  to  me  in  my  Christian  course. 

On  the  fly-leaf  of  one  of  the  diaries  is  written  : 

Often  and  much  alone,  this  book  may  be  called  my  communing  Companion. 

One  becomes  rather  puzzled  with  regard  to  the  exact  standard 
of  self-denial  of  this  eminent  Quaker,  and  one  is  driven  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  is  a  little  arbitrary. 

The  reading  of  novels  and  travels  makes  him  "  dry  empty 
and  poor  "  ;  the  reading  of  a  newspaper  is  "  waste  of  time."  He 
regrets  in  his  own  family  "  a  departure  from  simplicity  in  speech, 
furniture  and  attire,"  and  declares  the  Society  of  Friends  "  will 
wear  out  Quakerism "  if  they  continue  to  depart  from  sim- 
plicity "  in  language,  furniture,  pictures  and  decorations."  He 
condemns  and  reproaches  himself  for  buying  "  some  decoration 
to  place  on  my  lawn,"  and  he  disapproves  of  a  flower  show  as 
"  tending  to  increase  luxury  and  tending  to  gratify  the  lust  of  the 
eye."  The  use  of  silver  forks  is  a  deviation  from  simphcity,  but 
it  appears  there  was  not  so  much  vanity  in  silver  spoons.  Many 
other  instances  might  be  given  of  his  strait-laced  and  censorious 
attitude  to  objects  and  customs  he  considered  vain  and  frivolous. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  rare  and  rich  fruits  from  his  own  garden 
were  famed,  and  he  kept  a  most  excellent  table  loaded  with  every 
luxury.  The  silver  wine  labels  that  hung  round  the  necks  of  his 
heavy  cut-glass  decanters  were  handed  down  in  the  family  and 
are  engraved  "  Port,"  "  Lisbon,"  "  Madeira,"  "  British,"  "  Bucel- 
las,"  "Sherry,"  "Whiskey,"  "Rum,"  "Gin,"  "Brandy,"  etc. 
Nor  does  the  amassment  of  riches  appear  to  have  caused  him 
any  great  alarm  : 

The  prospects  of  the  family  are  bright  and  prosperous  as  regards  colliery 
matters,  the  monthly  income  being  very  large  and  my  own  appears  as  if  it 
might  exceed  my  former  year. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  on  this  point  he  appears  to  have  some 
misgiving  when  he  writes  : 

Accumulation  of  wealth  in  every  family  known  to  me  in  our  Society  carries 
away  from  the  purity  of  our  principles,  adds  toU  and  care  to  life,  and  greatly 
endangers  the  possession  of  heaven  at  last. 

His  religious  reflections  are  more  or  less  conventional.  Some- 
times he  finds  the  "  heavens  as  brass,"  but  he  often  receives 


878  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

"  drops  of  rich  consolation."  He  describes  his  varying  moods 
at  meeting  which  alternate  between  being  "  lamentably  heavy  " 
and  receiving  "  a  pecuharly  sohd  sweet  feehng  of  peace."  Here 
are  two  short  descriptions  of  meeting  : 

A  drive  through  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  without  feeling  or  end  seemed 
only  to  cover  us  with  dust. 

My  feelings  much  spoiled  by  J.  Jones  saying  it  was  time  to  separate  when 
we  had  been  about  one  hour  twenty  minutes  assembled  and  when  I  think 
religious  exercise  was  rising. 

He  was  of  an  optimistic  and  cheerful  disposition,  but  even  this 
he  thought  wrong.     At  the  age  of  81  he  writes  : 

How  often  in  the  few  past  days  have  I  been  in  danger  of  my  naturally 
cheerful  spirits  and  been  apt  to  be  carried  beyond  the  bounds  of  a  pious 
Christian  cheerfulness. 

And  at  84  again : 

Glad  and  thankful  for  the  various  checks  to  the  natural  liveliness  of  my 
disposition,  and  that  over  cheerfulness  which  so  often  causes  me  much  Regret. 

On  his  eighty-seventh  birthday  he  writes  : 

Surely  a  life  so  prolonged  ought  to  have  yielded  more  fruit. 

In  a  patriarchal  way  he  became  the  head  of  a  large  family,  the 
members  of  which  he  constantly  entertained,  and  he  never  fails 
to  take  a  close  interest  in  all  their  doings.  His  children's  deaths 
affect  him  deeply,  and  he  Hved  to  survive  many  other  members  of 
his  family,  so  records  of  illness  and  death  occur  very  frequently. 
His  wife  died  in  1833.  With  unfaihng  and  devoted  regularity 
he  visits  her  grave  every  year  of  the  twenty-five  he  survived  her, 
and  enters  in  his  diary  expressions  of  his  sacred  and  undying  grief. 

When  his  old  friend  George  Stephenson  died,  he  had  some 
misgivings  about  going  to  the  funeral,  as  Stephenson  was  "  an 
unbeUever."    But  he  finally  resolved  to  go  : 

In  the  church  I  sat  a  spectacle  with  my  hat  on  and  not  comforted  by  the 
funeral  service. 

He   makes   the   following  reflection   on   his    association   with 

Stephenson  : 

When  I  reflect  on  my  first  acquaintance  with  him  and  the  resulting  conse- 
quences my  mind  seems  almost  lost  in  doubt  as  to  the  beneficial  results— that 
humanity  has  been  benefited  in  the  diminished  use  of  horses  and  by  lessened 
cruelty  to  them,  that  much  ease,  safety,  speed  and  lessened  expense  m  travel- 


WILLIAM   GOODALL  379 

ling  is  obtained,  but  as  to  the  results  and  effects  of  all  that  Railways  have  led 
my  dear  family  into  being  in  any  sense  beneficial,  is  uncertain. 

There  are  many  comments  in  the  diaries  on  the  weather,  on 
nature,  on  birds,  and  gardens.  Public  ajffairs  occupy  his  attention 
more  than  he  hkes,  and  the  Crimean  War  calls  forth  many  an 
outburst  of  horror  and  sadness. 

While  from  time  to  time  he  feels  called  upon  to  admonish  a 
friend  for  "  backsliding,"  he  never  relaxes  his  vigilance  over 
himself.     At  the  age  of  89  he  writes  : 

Stiffness  of  limbs,  limited  powers  of  action  and  walking,  more  completely 
confirm  my  old  age  than  any  other  senses.  Sight  is  important,  taste,  touch, 
feeling  and  hearing  ujiimpaired.  Great  is  the  longing  of  my  soul  to  return 
to  my  gracious  Creator,  thanks  and  praises  due. 

He  makes  a  long  entry  on  December  31,  when  he  is  90,  dealing 
with  nature  and  noting  early  primroses  ;  he  touches  on  public 
affairs  and  ends  with  affectionate  references  to  his  family.  He 
lived  to  the  end  of  July  in  the  following  year,  1858. 

The  journal,  edited  by  Sir  Alfred  Pease,  was  published  in  1907. 


WILLIAM  GOODALL 

DIARISTS  often  refer  incidentally  to  hunting  and  other 
sport.  But  one  example  must  be  given  of  a  diary  which 
is  exclusively  devoted  to  hunting.  The  one  written  by 
William  Goodall,  head  huntsman  of  the  Bel  voir  Hunt  from  1843 
to  1859,  is  typical,  and  seems  the  best  one  to  choose.  Goodall 
began  life  in  the  stables.  His  first  master  was  a  Member  of  Parlia- 
ment, and  Goodall  had  to  spend  many  weary  hours  outside  the 
House  of  Commons  while  the  great  debates  on  the  Reform  Bill 
of  1832  were  going  on.  His  heart  was  in  the  kennel  rather  than 
the  stable,  and  in  1837  he  went  to  Bel  voir,  where  after  serving 
as  whipper-in  he  was  given  charge  of  the  pack  by  the  Duke  of 
Rutland  when  the  vacancy  occurred.  He  was  a  remarkable 
character  and  personally  popular,  as  well  as  being  a  great  hunts- 
man. 

In  his  diary  he  not  only  gives  vivid  descriptions  of  the  sport 
itself,  but  he  makes  many  little  comments  on  man,  horse,  and 
hound — especially  hound.  "  Lucy  made  a  famous  hit  at  Wilsford 
and  won  her  fox  " ;  "  Bell  showed  great  superiority  of  nose  and 


380  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

caught  the  fox  "  ;  "  WiUing  behaved  very  ill,  running  hare  most 
obstinately  in  Easton  Wood";  "  Knipton  gave  me  a  terrible 
fall  jumping  into  a  blind  grip  (no  fault  of  his)." 

He  always  gives  a  full  account  of  the  line  of  country  over 
which  they  run,  and  then  goes  on  in  one  entry  : 

He  crept  into  a  rabbit  hole  after  a  tremendous  run  of  two  hours  and  forty  five 
minutes,  one  hour  and  twenty  minutes  to  change  ;  the  first  forty  five  minutes 
without  more  than  a  momentary  check,  the  latter  the  same.  We  dug  him 
out  and  killed  him.  A  tremendous  large  old  dog  fox.  A  real  out  and  out 
good  day's  sport.  ...  A  most  beautiful  hunting  morning,  west  south  west 
and  a  rising  glass.  I  rode  my  good  old  horse  Catch-me-who-can  first  and 
Prince  second.  Those  who  rode  well  to  the  hounds  at  the  finish  were  [a  list 
follows] .  I  never  saw  hounds  work  more  beautifully  and  struggle  through  the 
ploughs  which  were  for  them  knee  deep  all  day  ;  every  hound  struggled 
through  very  stout  indeed. 

All  the  entries  are  very  much  the  same  and  there  is  no  need  to 
quote  any  more.  He  writes  for  the  last  time  on  April  6,  1859, 
and  gives  as  usual  a  description  of  the  run,  which  ended  in  the  fox 
being   killed 

most  handsomely  in  the  open  after  being  engaged  from  first  finding  in  the 
morning  for  four  hours— thus  ending  one  of  the  worst  seasons  on  record. 

After  giving  a  list  of  the  hounds  out  that  day,  he  adds  : 

I  rode  a  horse  of  Markwell's  on  trial  but  did  not  like  him. 

From  this  horse  he  had  a  severe  fall  and  on  returning  home, 
when  his  wife  greeted  him  with  "  Thank  God,  Will,  I  have  you 
safe  from  another  season,"  he  rephed,  "  Yes,  but,  mind  you,  I've 
had  a  rum  un  to-day." 

He  died  shortly  afterwards. 

The  original  manuscript  of  the  diary  is  in  the  possession  of 
the  Duke  of  Rutland.  The  above  extracts  are  taken  from 
The  History  of  the  Belvoir  Hunt. 


CARDINAL  MANNING 

THE  pubhcation  of  a  large  number  of  extracts  from  private 
diaries  in  Purcell's  biography  of  Manning,  which  appeared 
in  1896,  was  the  occasion  of  some  controversy  on  the 
ethics  of  biography.  Purcell  states  that  Manning  had  himself 
handed  over  his  diary  to  him,  having  cut  out  from  it  pages  which 


CARDINAL  MANNING  381 

"  he  did  not  consider  fit  or  expedient  to  be  laid  before  the  pubhc 
eye." 

In  Henry  Edward  Manning,  Mr.  Shane  Leslie  tells  the  true 
story  of  how  Purcell  came  into  possession  of  the  diaries,  though 
by  no  means  all  of  them ;  and  it  becomes  clear  that  Manning 
never  entrusted  them  to  him  for  publication.  Purcell  was  also 
guilty  of  many  inaccuracies  which  Mr.  Leslie  exposes.  But  the 
fact  remains  that  a  large  portion  of  Manning's  genuine  diary  has 
been  made  pubhc. 

Quite  apart  from  the  question  as  to  whether  the  diary  adds 
to  the  estimate  made  of  him  in  his  lifetime,  or  whether  it  reveals 
traits  in  his  charcter  which  detract  from  his  public  reputation, 
we  find  in  Manning  a  genuine  diarist  who  confided  at  the  very 
moment  to  the  private  pages  of  his  journal  his  passing  thoughts 
and  impressions  and  his  changing  views  and  who  did  not  hesitate 
to  expose  himself  to  charges  of  inconsistency  and  to  accuse  himself 
of  faults  and  faihngs  which  could  not  be  to  his  credit,  all  with 
an  apparent  disregard  for  the  verdict  of  posterity.  Here  was  a 
man  seemingly  bent  on  the  attainment  of  power  and  position, 
who  appeared  to  lay  great  store  on  pubhc  regard  and  fame.  He 
might  have  written  himself  up  in  his  diary,  or  at  any  rate  he  might 
have  destroyed  any  papers  that  would  expose  him  in  an  un- 
favourable hght.  He  did  not  do  either,  although  he  contem- 
plated that  his  life  would  be  written  not  by  Purcell  but  by  Mr. 
J.  E.  C.  Bodley,  whom  Purcell  forestalled  by  taking  possession 
of  the  papers  on  the  death  of  Cardinal  Manning,  while  Mr.  Bodley 
was  abroad.  Manning  may  have  suffered  from  the  curious 
indecision,  or  rather  constantly  deferred  decision,  which  seems 
to  have  made  so  many  diarists  just  leave  their  record  without 
injunctions  and  without  any  note  of  their  wishes.  Nevertheless, 
Manning  was  not  always  perfectly  frank  even  to  his  diary.  Sud- 
denly, on  supremely  important  occasions,  not  the  torn-out  page, 
but  the  written  page  discloses  an  almost  mysterious  reticence. 
For  instance,  although  he  cut  out  many  pages  written  at  the  time 
of  Newman's  conversion,  when  he  meets  Newman  in  Rome  shortly 
before  his  own  conversion  he  notes  the  fact  without  a  single  word 
of  comment  or  any  account  of  what  they  said  to  one  another. 
Still  stranger  is  the  brief  entry,  "  Audience  to-day  at  Vatican  " 
about  the  same  time.  This  momentous  interview  with  the  Pope 
must  have  made  a  deep  impression  on  him,  yet  he  writes  not  a 
word  of  it  in  his  diary  at  the  time,  although  we  get  full  and 
elaborate  accounts  of  his  doings  in  Italy  and  his  talks  and  dis- 
cussions with  Father  Luigi  at  Assissi.     After  his  conversion  also 


382  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

he  makes  no  sort  of  record  of  his  frequent  interviews  with  the 
Pope,  nor  of  the  honours  bestowed  on  him. 

We  gain  some  idea  of  his  motive  in  keeping  a  diary  when  he 
writes  in  1851,  after  having  lost  one  of  the  volumes  of  his  journal : 

Since  I  lost  my  journals  I  have  no  heart  to  begin  again.  Also  keeping  a 
joximal  (1)  Led  to  self  contemplation  and  tenderness  (2)  Kept  alive  the 
susceptibilities  of  human  sorrow.  Yet  it  was  of  use  to  me  in  remembering 
and  comparing  seasons  and  in  recording  marked  events. 

And  again  after  another  break : 

I  feel  my  journal  keeping  is  broken  off.  I  am  in  doubt  whether  it  is  a  good 
or  bad  habit.     But  certainly  it  kept  alive  many  thoughts  and  convictions. 

He  used  his  diary,  in  fact,  for  careful  self-examination  and  for 
searching  out  the  inmost  thoughts  of  his  heart,  though  he  used 
it  also  as  a  memorandum  of  his  doings  and  often  noted  the  wind 
and  the  weather. 

The  pages  before  1844,  when  he  was  Vicar  of  Lavington  and 
Archdeacon  of  Chichester,  he  cut  out.  He  was  at  that  time  37 
years  old,  and  we  see  at  once  his  love  of  introspection  and  self- 
disparagement.  And  as  time  passes  the  conflict  between  worldly 
ambition  and  mystical  idealism  becomes  very  apparent. 

I  do  feel  pleasui-e  in  honom*,  precedence,  elevation,  the  society  of  great 
people  and  all  this  is  very  shameful  and  mean. 

The  offer  of  the  post  of  Sub- Almoner  to  the  Queen,  which  had 
been  vacated  by  the  Archbishop  of  York  and  was  a  stepping-stone 
to  a  Bishopric,  produces  an  orgj'^  of  self-dissection  and  the  weigh- 
ing of  pros  and  cons.     He  finally  refuses  the  offer. 

To  learn  to  say  no,  to  disappoint  myself,  to  choose  the  harder  side,  to  deny 
my  inclinations,  to  prefer  to  be  less  thought  of  and  to  have  few  gifts  of  the 
world  ;    this  is  no  mistake  and  is  most  like  the  cross.     Only  with  humility. 

He  keeps  up  the  argument  with  himself  for  days  because  from 
the  worldly  point  of  view  he  is  bitterly  disappointed.  But  he 
writes  : 

Certainly  I  would  rather  choose  to  be  stayed  on  God  than  to  be  in  the 
thrones  of  the  world  and  the  Chtu-ch. 

He  seems  most  anxious  to  note  down  anything  discreditable : 

I  came  home  from  London  last  night  after  three  weelis  very  illspent.  My 
life  there  was  irregular,  indiscreet,  self  indulgent. 

After  an  illness  his  mind  turns  to  self-analysis  with  morbid 
intensity : 


CARDINAL  MANNING  383 

If  I  knew  that  I  were  now  to  die  what  would  I  feel  ? 

Detailed  confessions,  self-denunciation,  prayer  and  resolutions 
follow.  The  resolutions  are  set  out  in  lists  and  marked  kept  and 
ke'pl  in  a  measure. 

In  the  course  of  the  week  I  have  begun  again  with  the  reckoning. 

Petulance  twice. 

Want  of  love  of  my  neighbours. 

Complacent  visions. 

But  in  all  these  except  once  iinder  the  first  there  has  been  no  conscious,  at 
least  morosCf  consent  of  the  wiU. 

Twice  over  he  writes  out  a  list  of  "  God's  special  mercies  to 
me,"  which  include  "  the  preservation  of  my  life  six  times  to  my 
knowledge."  In  the  second  list  each  heading  is  introduced  with 
one  of  the  following  words  :  Created  ;  Redeemed  ;  Regenerated  ; 
Blessed  ;  Spared ;  Restrained ;  Prevented  ;  Converted  ;  Con- 
vinced ;  Enhghtened  ;  Reclaimed  ;  Quickened  ;  Chastised  ;  Awak- 
ened ;  Bruised  ;  Kindled  ;  Softened  ;  Humbled. 

He  indulges  fiercely  in  self-condemnation  : 

For  I  am  capable  of  all  evil.  Nothing  but  the  hand  of  God  has  kept  me  from 
being  the  vilest  creature  and  nothing  can.  I  feel  now  that  if  I  were  within 
the  sphere  of  temptation  I  should  sin  by  a  perpetual  backsliding. 

In  his  journeys  abroad  in  Belgium  and  later  in  Rome  he  makes 
little  pencil  sketches  of  architectural  features,  and  gives  a  daily 
account  of  conversations  and  visits  as  well  as  notes  on  political 
events.  His  growing  appreciation  of  Roman  Catholic  services 
and  ritual  is  demonstrated  on  every  page,  and  ceremonies  and 
processions  are  described  in  detail. 

As  a  result  of  the  Oxford  Movement  and  Newman's  conversion 
many  converts  were  going  over  to  Rome.  Although  he  himself 
was  on  the  same  road,  he  makes  very  unsympathetic  references 
to  relations  and  friends  who  were  taking  this  course.  On  the 
back  of  the  actual  page  on  which  he  comments  unfavourably  on 
the  conversion  of  a  lady  acquaintance  he  writes ; 

The  Church  of  England  after  300  years  has  failed  (1)  in  the  xmity  of  doctrine 
(2)  in  the  enforcement  of  discipline  (3)  in  the  training  of  the  higher  life. 

"  Strange  thoughts  visit  "  him,  amongst  others  : 

I  am  conscious  that  I  am  further  from  the  Church  of  England  and  nearer 
Rome  than  ever  I  was. 


384  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

How  do  I  know  where  I  may  be  two  years  hence  ? 
Where  was  Newman  five  years  ago  ? 
May  I  not  be  in  an  analogous  place  ? 

And  on  his  birthday : 

To-day  is  my  birthday,  38.  This  last  year  has  opened  a  strange  chapter  in 
my  life.  I  never  thought  to  feel  as  I  feel  now  and  with  my  foot  on  the  step 
of  what  I  once  desired. 

The  diary  relates  the  momentous  event  very  briefly. 

1851.     March  25.     Executed  resignation  of  archdeaconry  and  benefice. 
April  5,     Went  to  Father  Brownhill  with  Hope.     St.  George's.    Cardinal. 
April  6.     Passion  Sunday.     9^  A.M.  was  received  at  High  Mass. 

After  this  there  are  a  lot  of  pages  cut,  but  we  can  gather  that 
he  has  no  misgivings  or  remorse. 

After  general  confession  in  Retreat  I  could  hardly  sleep  for  joy. 

The  entries  become  more  irregular,  but  worldly  ambition  has 
still  to  be  fought. 

I  am  conscious  of  a  desire  to  be  m  such  a  position  (1)  as  I  had  in  time  past 
(2)  as  my  present  circumstances  by  the  act  of  others  (3)  as  my  friends  think  me 
fit  for  (4)  as  I  feel  my  own  faculties  tend  to. 

But  God  being  my  helper  I  will  not  seek  it  by  the  lifting  of  a  finger  or  the 
speaking  of  a  word.  If  it  is  ever  to  be  it  shall  be  (1)  either  by  the  invitation 
of  superiors  or  (2)  by  the  choice  of  others. 

When  he  is  80  and  feels  the  end  approaching  he  writes  : 

I  have  ceased  all  outdoor  work  and  have  not  been  out  of  the  house.  It  is 
a  tempus  clausum,  a  slowing  down  into  the  terminus  and  I  feel  very  passive 
and  content.  ...  I  hope  I  may  die  on  the  field  and  ia  harness.  But  aU  this 
will  settle  itself  or  rather  Our  Lord  will  settle  it  for  me. 

The  last  entry  is  on  November  9,  1890  : 

If  I  had  not  become  Catholic  I  could  never  have  worked  for  the  people  of 
England  as  in  the  last  year  they  think  I  have  worked  for  them.  Anglicanism 
would  have  fettered  me.  The  liberty  of  Truth  and  the  Church  has  lifted  me 
above  aU  dependence  or  limitation.  This  seems  Uke  the  latter  end  of  Job 
greater  than  the  beguming.  I  hope  it  is  not  the  condemnation  where  aU  men 
speak  well  of  me. 

The  publication  in  the  biography  of  the  diary  extracts  as  well 
as  autobiographical  memoranda  created  some  sensation  because 
they  revealed  certain  facts  which  were  not  generally  known. 
Manning,  while  pubhcly  an  AngUcan  and  dissuading  others  from 
joining  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  was  found  to  have  practically 


BISHOP   WILBERFORCE  385 

decided  to  take  that  step  himself.  His  intrigues  at  the  Vatican, 
his  unfriendly  relations  with  Newman,  his  intercourse  with  men 
of  diverse  religious  or  of  no  theological  beliefs  at  all,  while  to  his 
own  clergy  he  exhibited  a  very  frigid  and  strict  demeanour — 
these  revelations  came  as  something  of  a  shock  to  some  of  his 
warmest  admirers.  Nevertheless,  although  so  few  extracts  can 
be  given  here  from  the  diary  itself,  it  affords  a  very  good  example 
of  self-revelation.  The  dignified,  stern,  ascetic,  almost  saintly 
Cardinal  is  shown  to  be  an  ordinary  human  being,  struggling 
sometimes  successfully  and  sometimes  unsuccessfully  with  the 
temptations  and  weaknesses  which  all  flesh  is  heir  to. 

BISHOP  WILBERFORCE 

THE  diary  kept  by  Samuel  Wilberforce  covered  the 
greater  part  of  his  life.  Many  extracts  from  it  are  given 
in  the  three  volumes  of  his  biography,  beginning  in  1830 
and  continuing  with  breaks  to  the  end  of  his  life  in  1873.  The 
diary  is  of  interest  because  without  it  the  inner  side,  which  was 
undoubtedly  the  finer  side,  of  Wilberforce's  character  would 
never  have  been  fully  known.  In  the  public  eye  he  was  a  great 
ecclesiastic,  an  eloquent  preacher,  a  statesman  and  a  courtier, 
occupied  largely  with  questions  of  Church  administration,  dis- 
cipline and  ritual.  He  was  known  as  the  "  Bishop  of  Society  "  ; 
and  the  versatile  facility  and  persuasive  expediency  which  marked 
his  successful  career  earned  him  the  sobriquet  of  "  Soapy  Sam." 
Without  the  diary  revelations  the  estimate  of  his  life  and  char- 
acter, judged  only  by  letters  and  speeches,  would  have  been  very 
incomplete. 

He  writes  fairly  regularly,  although  there  is  a  break  of  eight 
years  after  he  was  made  Bishop  of  Oxford  in  1845.  In  early 
days  at  Brightstone  he  gives  brief  details  about  his  parishioners, 
his  difficulties  with  them,  the  books  he  is  reading,  the  course  of 
preparation  for  each  sermon  and  memoranda  of  its  efficiency 
when  delivered.  He  continues  regularly  to  note  his  movements 
and  sermons,  with  occasional  comments  on  his  health.  Later 
on  there  are  references  to  the  ecclesiastical  disputes,  the  Hampden 
case.  Bishop  Colenso's  attitude,  adverse  criticism  on  Essays  and 
Reviews,  and  his  political  activities.  He  sees  a  great  number  of 
people  and  records  conversations  with  many  statesmen,  notably 
Peel  and  Gladstone,  for  the  latter  of  whom  he  has  a  great  admira 
tion  :  "  Great,  earnest  and  honest ;  as  unlike  the  tricky  Disraeli 
as  possible." 
25 


886  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

The  following  remarks  of  Gladstone,  in  view  of  subsequent 
events,  are  interesting : 

Gladstone  much  talking  how  little  real  work  any  Premier  had  done  after 
60.  ...  , 

Gladstone  again  talking  of  60  as  full  age  of  Premier. 

Dinners  at  GrilUons,  visits,  court  functions  are  all  noted,  but 
it  is  a  diary  of  a  very  busy  man  and  the  entries  are  generally 
perfunctory  and  brief.  He  has  an  enormous  correspondence. 
He  notes  that  he  has  written  fifty  letters  in  the  day  and  his 
incessant  rounds  as  a  Bishop  take  it  out  of  him,  so  that  he  writes 
of  his  tiredness  on  one  occasion  "  very  much  fagged,"  and  his 
occasional  ailments  such  as  "  a  fierce  toothache."  Not  often 
does  he  indulge  in  criticism  of  the  people  he  meets,  and  of  his  con- 
versations with  the  Queen  we  get  nothing  more  than  that  she  was 
"  very  affable."  But  there  are  one  or  two  more  critical  httle 
passages  about  people  which  may  be  quoted.     This  of  Carlyle  : 

Then  rode  with  Carlyle  and  Lowe  ;  on  horse  full  of  spirit  round  by  Popham 
lane  WeU  shaken.  Carlyle  full  of  unconnected  and  inconsistent  utterances. 
Full'of  condemnation  of  the  present  day,  of  its  honesty  etc  etc  praising  George 
I  II  and  III  for  honesty  and  ability.  A  heap  of  discordant  ideas.  Yet  a 
good  deal  of  manhood  and  of  looking  to  some  better  state  of  being.  Poor 
man,  a  strange  enigma  !  If  he  did  but  see  the  True  Man  as  his  hope  aM 
deliverer  how  were  all  his  sighs  answered  ! 

Napoleon  III,  when  on  a  visit  to  Windsor : 

The  Emperor  rather  mean  looking,  smaU  and  a  tendency  to  embonpoint ; 
a  remarkable  way  as  it  were  of  swimming  up  a  room  with  an  uncertam  gait ; 
a  smaU  grey  eye,  looking  cunning  but  with  an  aspect  of  softness  about  it  too. 

His  love  of  birds  is  shown  by  frequent  notes  hke  the  following  : 

Walked  half  way  to  Petworth  saw  first  swallows  near  the  Coultershaw  Mill, 
heard  first  cuckoo  in  woods  at  Burton  Park. 

But  so  far  as  his  activities  and  work  is  concerned  the  diary  is 
in  no  way  remarkable,  as  the  memoranda  are  bald  and  hurned. 
Wilberforce,  however,  also  treated  his  diary  as  a  confidant.  We 
find  passages  containing  prayer,  self-examination  and  resolutions, 
more  especially  in  the  earUer  years.  He  deplores  his  "  unbridled 
indolence  "  ;  he  prays  to  be  kept  humble  and  "  free  from  the  fear 
of  man  which  bringeth  a  snare,"  and  he  writes  after  talking  to  a 
lawyer : 


BISHOP  WILBERFORCE  387 

How  very  injui'ioiis  it  must  be  to  the  mind  to  have  no  cooling  days.  To  be 
always  hot  and  rusting  with  worldly  cares  ;  no  pauses  ;  no  self  examination. 
I  ought  to  thank  God  for  my  lot.  If  as  it  is  I  find  it  hard  to  make  head  against 
sin  what  would  it  have  been  if  I  had  been  a  successful  lawyer  ? 

And  he  tabulates  resolutions  quite  in  the  style  of  his  seventeenth- 
and  eighteenth-century  predecessors.  In  the  middle  period  there 
are  fewer  entries  of  this  description,  but  this  occurs  : 

Many  searchings  of  heart.  Why  so  troubled  ?  doubtless  to  teach  me  more 
simplicity  in  serving  God — less  eye  to  success — more  to  His  glory  ;  resolved 
and  prayed. 

In  later  years  the  resolutions  and  self-examination  occur  again. 
He  surveys  his  life  and  the  "  wonderful  advantages  "  he  has  had, 
and  ends  : 

How  has  God  dealt  and  what  have  I  really  done — for  HIM.  Miserere 
Domine  is  all  my  cry. 

And  he  resolves  : 

I.  to  take  periodic  times  for  renewing  this  meditation ; 

II.  to  strive  to  live  more  in  the  sight  of  Death  ; 

III.  to  commend  myself  more  entirely  a  dying  creature  into  the  Hand  of 
the  only  Lord  of  Life. 

But  undoubtedly  the  most  human  and  touching  parts  of  the 
diary  are  the  references  to  his  wife.  The  domestic  side  of  his 
nature  is  shown  by  affectionate  mention  of  his  children,  but 
the  remarks  about  them  are  with  one  or  two  exceptions  quite 
brief.  Indeed,  the  diary  as  a  whole,  except  for  the  self-examina- 
tion above  mentioned,  does  not  enter  into  the  more  private  and 
intimate  matters.  Many  diarists,  too,  who  write  far  more  freely 
about  their  feelings  than  Wilberforce  does,  find  themselves  unable 
to  write  when  confronted  with  great  sorrow.  But  Wilberforce 
confides  in  his  diary  on  the  very  day  his  wife  dies,  and  on  the 
subsequent  days  and  on  the  day  of  the  funeral.  We  feel  a  re- 
luctance to  detach  these  heartrending  and  painful  reflections 
from  their  context.  But  the  genuineness  and  sincerity  of  his 
affliction  which  he  may  have  attempted  to  conceal  outwardly 
becomes  the  more  apparent  when  to  the  very  last  year  of  his 
life  he  continues  to  refer  to  the  subject ;  and  he  survived  his 
wife  thirty-two  years.  Of  their  married  happiness  there  is  no 
account.  In  his  diary  before  1841,  the  date  of  her  death,  he  only 
refers  to  his  wife  casually  in  his  short  memoranda.  But  we  find 
by  his  subsequent  diary  this  sacred   memory  threading  itself 


388  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

through  his  life  and  noted  only  by  him  to  himself  alone  in  the 
pages  of  his  journal.  Without  quoting  the  passages  written  at 
the  very  moment,  we  may  give  a  few  instances  of  this  ceaseless 
devotion  to  the  memory. 

1853.     Woke  early  with  all  the  events  of  this  day  12  years  as  fresh  as  yester- 
day before  me. 

1855  [after  a  very  btisy  day  of  Confirmations].  Full  aU  day  of  thoughts  of 
1841.     Oh,  that  I  had  profited  more  by  that  life-sorrow. 

1 857.  On  the  tower  a  view  of  Hind  Head.  I  always  look  from  these  distances 
at  Lavington  as  if  my  Emily  were  there  and  I  could  find  her  if  I  went. 

1860.  Stood  on  the  shore  for  hours  watching  the  surf  as  I  did  when  I  was 
a  boy,  and  thought  I  should  meet  Emily  round  every  comer.  My  own,  my 
lost  one,  my  soul  !  Dearest  one.  I  could  have  wept  tears  of  blood.  I  could 
not  help  calling  out  aloud  to  her  to  come  to  me. 

1861.  Oh,  if  I  had  her  but  to  show  her  how  much  happier  I  could  make  her 
than  with  all  my  love  I  did. 

1872.  They  think  me  hurried  with  business.  They  do  not  know  that  my 
heart  is  inLavington  Church— in  the  house  when  we  came  back.  Oh,  but  it 
is  almost  madness  to  think  of  it. 

It  is  pretty  certain  that  none  of  his  contemporaries  guessed  the 
constant  presence  in  the  back  of  his  mind,  and  some  may  have 
misjudged   him. 

Another  sorrow  in  his  life  was  the  secession  to  Rome  of 
his  only  daughter  and  her  husband.  He  records  the  news  on 
August  29,  1868,  and  it  almost  stuns  him.     He  writes  : 

For  years  I  have  prayed  incessantly  against  this  last  act  of  his  and  now  it 
seems  denied  me.  It  seems  as  if  my  heart  would  break  at  this  insult  out  of 
my  own  bosom  to  God's  truth  in  England's  Church,  and  preference  for  the 
vile  harlotry  of  the  Papacy.  God  forgive  them.  I  have  struggled  on  my 
knees  against  feelings  of  wrath  against  him  in  a  long  long  weeping  cry  to  God. 

And  he  reverts  to  the  calamity  on  many  subsequent  days. 
This  kind  of  entry  stands  in  strong  contrast  to  the  general 
entries  in  the  diary,  which  mostly  resemble  the  following  : 

Confirmation  at  WeUington  CoUege.  Cold  very  bad  ;  but  D.G.  managed 
to  be  heard.  After  luncheon  writing  and  seeing,  with  Fosebery  to  Old  Wmd- 
sor.     Dear  Blunt  affectionate  as  always.     A  very  nice  confirmation. 

Back  to  Windsor  Castle  and  prepared  sermon.  Dined  with  the  Queen,  A 
great  deal  of  talk  with  Princess  Louise  :  clever  and  very  agreeable.  The 
Queen  very  affable.  '  So  sorry  Mr.  Gladstone  started  this  about  the  Irish 
Church,  and  he  is  a  great  friend  of  yours,  etc' 

The  two  widely   differing  kinds  of  entries   seem  to  illustrate 


MACAULAY  389 

Wilberforce's  character.  In  the  one  can  be  seen  the  ecclesiastic, 
the  courtier  and  the  statesman,  in  the  others  the  human  being 
as  few  if  any  knew  him.  He  was  evidently  one  of  those  people 
who  go  in  for  cultivating  a  pubhc  manner  which,  while  it  becomes 
a  habit,  gives  as  a  matter  of  fact  a  false  impression  of  the  real 
person.     A  diary  alone  can  reveal  the  other  side. 

Bishop  Wilberforce  wrote  an  entry  in  his  diary  on  July  18, 
1873,  in  which  he  expressed  sorrow  at  parting  from  his  son, 
Ernest,  who  was  bound  for  Lapland,  and  he  enters  as  usual  the 
doings  of  the  day.  On  July  19  he  was  killed  by  a  fall  from  his 
horse  while  riding  with  Lord  Granville  near  Leatherhead. 


MACAULAY 


t( 


N 


O  kind  of  reading  is  so  delightful  and  so  fascinating 
as  this  minute  history  of  a  man's  self,"  wrote  Macaulay, 
after  he  had  been  reading  over  his  old  journals.  "  What- 
ever was  in  Macaulay's  mind  may  be  found  in  his  diary,"  Sir 
George  Trevelyan  tells  us.  "  That  diary  was  written  throughout 
with  the  unconscious  candour  of  a  man  who  freely  and  frankly 
notes  down  remarks  which  he  expects  to  be  read  by  himself 
alone."  Macaulay  was  not,  however,  a  regular  writer.  In 
1848  he  notes  a  lapse  of  more  than  nine  years.  The  earlier  por- 
tions of  the  diary,  quoted  in  the  Life  and  Letters,  deal  with  his 
travels  in  Italy  in  1838-9,  and  his  biographer  notes  that  Macaulay 
viewed  the  works  of  man  and  of  nature  with  the  eye  of  an  his- 
torian, not  that  of  an  artist.  "  His  stock  of  epithets  applicable 
to  mountains,  seas  and  clouds  was  singularly  scanty  .  .  .  when 
he  had  recorded  the  fact  that  the  leaves  were  green,  the  sky  blue, 
the  plain  rich  and  the  hills  clothed  with  wood  he  had  said  all  he 
had  to  say  and  there  was  an  end  of  it."  This  is  not  surprising 
when  we  find  in  his  diary  his  own  account  of  a  walk  from  Malvern 
into  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  Herefordshire  : 

I  walked  far  into  Herefordshire  and  read  while  walking  the  last  five  books 
iDf  the  Iliad  with  deep  interest  and  many  tears. 

Reading,  indeed,  was  his  chief  interest  and  occupation 
throughout  his  life.  His  diary  abounds  with  literary  judgments 
and  the  record  of  the  enormous  amount  of  literature  he  con- 
sumed. With  a  book  or  in  a  library  he  was  always  happy,  and 
even  in  his  last  illness  he  notes : 


390  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  read  and  foiind  as  I  have  always  found  that  an  interesting  book  acted  as 
an  anodyne. 

Of  the  extraordinary  rapidity  with  which  he  could  devour 
the  contents  of  a  book  many  anecdotes  have  been  related.  In 
his  diary  there  are  several  references  to  his  astonishing  memory. 
Crossing  over  to  Ireland,  he  writes  : 

I  put  on  my  great  coat  and  sat  on  deck  during  the  whole  voyage.  As  I 
could  not  read,  I  used  an  excellent  substitute  for  reading.  I  went  through 
Paradise  Lost  in  my  head.  I  could  still  repeat  half  of  it  and  that  the  best 
half.     I  really  never  enjoyed  it  so  much. 

I  walked  in  the  portico  and  learned  by  heart  the  noble  fourth  act  of  the 
Merchant  of  Venice.  There  are  four  hundred  lines  of  which  I  knew  a  hundred 
and  fifty.  I  made  myself  perfect  master  of  the  whole  the  prose  letter  included 
in  two  hours. 

People  with  abnormally  good  memories  are  like  people  with 
too  much  luggage.  Socially  Macaulay  was  greatly  addicted  to 
opening  the  contents  of  the  many  boxes  of  his  vast  store  and  over- 
whelming his  auditors  with  the  abundance  of  his  learning.  But 
in  his  writing,  and  this  is  particularly  true  of  his  diary,  he  exer- 
cised a  restraint  and  wrote  without  any  trace  of  pedantry  or  over- 
weighted erudition.  His  hterary  opinions  are  very  trenchantly 
written,  often  amusing  and  unrestrained  in  their  violence.  They 
occur  in  so  many  entries  that  it  is  difficult  to  give  extracts, 
but  his  wholehearted  admiration  for  Jane  Austen's  novels  may 
perhaps  be  quoted : 

There  are  in  the  world  no  compositions  which  approach  nearer  to  perfection. 

After  reading  Dickens  and  Pliny : 

Read  Northanger  Abbey  worth  all  Dickens  and  Pliny  together.  Yet  it 
was  the  work  of  a  girl.  She  was  certainly  not  more  than  twenty-six.  Won- 
derful creature  ! 

Although  most  of  his  reading  is  of  the  classics,  he  occasionally 
indulges  in  a  modern  novel. 

I  dined  by  myself  and  read  an  execrably  stupid  novel  called  Tylney  Hall. 
Why  do  I  read  such  stuff  ? 

Of  Bulwer  Ljrtton's  scheme  for  some  association  of  literary 
men  he  writes  : 

I  detest  all  such  associations.  I  hate  the  notion  of  gregarious  authors. 
The  less  we  have  to  do  with  each  other  the  better. 


MACAULAY  891 

Macaulay's  writing,  of  course,  occupied  as  prominent  a  place 
in  his  own  record  of  his  Hfe  as  his  reading.  The  conception,  the 
preparation,  the  composition,  the  pubHcation  of  the  History  are 
all  recorded.  The  hours  of  arduous  labour,  the  misgivings  and 
the  eventual  striking  success  of  his  work  are  described  in  daily 
notes  of  doubt  and  hope.  A  diary  alone  can  give  us  the  true 
picture  of  the  gradual  stages  of  a  great  achievement  from  the 
point  of  view  of  its  author.  Some  of  the  historian's  diary  jottings 
may  be  given,  taken  from  the  years  he  was  engaged  on  this  work : 

I  have  thought  a  good  deal  during  the  last  few  days  about  my  History. 
The  great  difficulty  of  a  work  of  this  kind  is  the  beginning.  How  is  it  to  be 
joined  on  to  the  preceding  events  ?  Where  am  I  to  commence  it  ?  I 
cannot  plunge  slap  dash  into  the  middle  of  events  and  characters. 

I  looked  at  some  books  about  Glencoe.  Then  to  the  Athenasum  and 
examined  Scotch  Acts  of  Parliament  on  the  same  subject.  Walked  a  good 
way  meditating.  I  see  my  line.  Home  and  wrote  a  little  but  thought  and 
prepared  more. 

I  read  a  portion  of  my  History  to  Hannah  and  Trevelyan  with  great  efiect. 
Hannah  cried  and  Trevelj^an  kept  awake. 

I  read  my  book  and  Thucydides's  which  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  foimd  much 
better  than  mine. 

To-morrow  I  shall  begin  to  transcribe  again  and  to  polish.  What  trouble 
these  few  pages  will  have  cost  me  !  The  great  object  is  that  after  all  this 
trouble  they  may  read  as  if  they  had  been  spoken  off  and  may  seem  to  flow  as 
easily  as  table  talk.     We  shall  see. 

I  looked  over  and  sent  off  the  last  twenty  pages  .  My  work  is  done,  thank 
God  ;  and  now  for  the  result.  On  the  whole  I  think  that  it  cannot  be  very 
unfavourable. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  was  enthusiastic  in  admiration  of  my  book.  Though 
I  am  almost  callous  to  praise  now,  this  praise  made  me  happy  for  two  minutes. 

Longman  called.  It  is  necessary  to  reprint.  This  is  wonderful.  Twenty- 
six  thousand,  five  hundred  copies  sold  in  ten  weeks  !  I  should  not  wonder 
if  I  made  twenty  thousand  pounds  clear  this  year  by  literature.  Pretty  well, 
considering  that  22  years  ago  I  had  just  nothing  when  my  debts  were  paid  ; 
and  all  that  I  have  with  the  exception  of  a  small  part  left  me  by  my  imcle  the 
General,  has  been  made  by  myself  and  made  easily  and  honestly  by  pursuits 
which  were  a  pleasure  to  me  and  without  one  insinuation  from  any  slanderer 
that  I  was  not  even  liberal  in  all  my  pecuniary  dealings. 

A  self-complacent  tone  is  noticeable  in  several  of  the  entries 
where  he  writes  down  general  reflections  on  his  birthhday : 

My  birthday.  Forty-nine  years  old.  I  have  no  cause  of  complaint. 
Tolerable  health  ;  competence  ;  liberty  ;  leisure  ;  very  dear  relations  and 
friends  ;   a  great,  I  may  say  a  very  great  literary  reputation. 

My  birthday.     I  am  fifty.     WeU,  I  have  had  a  happy  life.     I  do  not  know 


892  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

that  anybody  whom  I  have  seen  close  has  had  a  happier.     Some  things  I 
regret,  but  on  the  whole  who  is  better  off  ? 

My  birthday.  Fifty  seven.  I  have  had  a  not  tinpleasant  year.  My  health 
is  not  good  but  my  head  is  clear  and  my  heart  is  warm.  I  receive  numerous 
marks  of  the  good  opinion  of  the  public  ...  I  have  been  made  a  peer  with  I 
think  as  general  an  approbation  as  I  remember  in  the  case  of  any  man  that  in 
my  time  has  been  made  a  peer. 

He  has  warnings  of  heart  trouble  which  make  him  write  in  a 
more  depressed  vein  from  time  to  time. 

I  should  like  to  finish  William  before  I  go.  But  this  is  like  the  old  excuses 
that  were  made  to  Charon. 

My  strength  is  failing.  My  life  will  not  I  think  be  long.  But  I  have  clear 
faculties,  warm  affections,  abundant  sources  of  pleasure. 

I  am  perfectly  ready  and  shall  never  be  readier.  A  month  more  of  such 
days  as  I  have  been  passing  of  late  woiild  make  me  impatient  to  get  to  my  little 
narrow  crib  like  a  weary  factory  child. 

Politics,  of  com-se,  occupy  many  entries,  but  far  less  than 
literature.  There  are  accounts  of  visits  to  Windsor  when  the 
Queen  "  insisted  on  my  telhng  her  some  of  my  stories  "  ;  and  on 
one  occasion  he  tactfully  corrects  the  Queen  when  she  refers  to 
James  II  as  her  "  ancestor.' 


55 


'  Not  your  Majesty's  ancestor,'  said  I.  '  Your  Majesty's  predecessor.'  I 
hope  this  was  not  an  uncourtly  correction.  I  meant  it  as  a  compliment  and 
she  seemed  to  take  it  so. 

His  election  for  Edinburgh  and  other  political  events  are  de- 
scribed ;  but  it  is  quite  apparent  that  politics  are  not  his  main 
interest.     We  can  quote  him  once  on  food  : 

Ellis  came  to  dinner  at  seven.  I  gave  him  lobster  ctury,  woodcock  and 
macaroni.     I  think  that  I  will  note  dinners  as  honest  Pepys  did. 

The  historian  rides. 

I  was  pleased  to  find  I  had  a  good  seat  ;  and  my  guide  whom  I  had  apprised 
of  my  unskilfulness  professed  himself  quite  an  admirer  of  the  way  in  which  I 
trotted  and  cantered.  His  flattery  pleased  me  more  than  many  fine  compli- 
ments which  have  been  paid  to  my  History. 

Macaulay  was  a  playgoer,  but  he  had  no  ear  for  music.  His 
recognition  of  "  The  Campbells  are  Coming,"  played  at  Windsor 
by  the  band  which  "  covered  the  talk  with  a  succession  of  sonorous 
tunes  "  as  he  notes  in  his  diary,  is  said  to  be  the  only  authentic 
instance  on  record  of  his  having  known  one  tune  from  another. 

The   extent   of  Macaulay's   private   generosity   would   never 


GEORGE  HOWARD  393 

have  been  known  except  for  his  diary.  He  gave  Uterally  hundreds 
away  to  needy  authors  and  people  in  distress.  His  diary  received 
his  confidences  to  within  a  few  days  of  his  death  in  1859.  His 
biographer  says  of  it :  "  Those  who  have  special  reason  to  cherish 
his  memory  may  be  allowed  to  say  that  proud  as  they  are  of  his 
brilliant  and  elaborate  compositions  .  .  .  they  set  a  still  higher 
value  upon  the  careless  pages  of  that  diary  which  testifies  how 
through  seven  years  of  trying  and  constant  illness  he  maintained 
his  industry,  his  courage,  his  patience,  and  his  benevolence  un- 
impaired and  unbroken  to  the  last." 

A  few  extracts  are  given  in  the  biography  from  the  diary  of 
Margaret  Macaulay,  his  sister.  They  give  a  faithful  picture  of 
their  domestic  life  in  the  earher  days.  She  writes  of  "his  beam- 
ing countenance,  happy  affectionate  smile  and  joyous  laugh  "  ; 
and  one  of  her  entries  ends  with  the  following  prophecy : 

The  name  which  passes  through  this  little  room  in  the  quiet  gentle  tones  of 
sisterly  affection  is  a  name  which  will  be  repeated  through  distant  generations 
and  go  down  to  posterity  linked  with  eventful  times  and  great  deeds. 

Among  minor  diaries  Macaulay's  must  rank  very  high.  Al- 
though he  was  not  a  regular  writer,  and  was  by  no  means  morbidly 
introspective,  his  spontaneity  is  so  natural  and  genuine  that  in 
spite  of  his  facile  pen  there  is  never  a  suggestion  that  he  was 
elaborating  a  special  record  for  the  further  enhancement  of  his 
reputation. 


GEORGE  HOWARD  (7th  Earl  of  Carlisle) 

IORD  CARLISLE  was  born  in  1802.  He  was  a  Member 
of  Parliament,  Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland  under  Lord 
^  Melbourne,  a  member  of  Lord  John  Russell's  cabinet,  and, 
with  a  short  break,  Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland  from  1855  till 
within  a  few  months  of  his  death  in  1864.  He  was  a  scholar 
and  writer  of  verse  and  a  speaker  of  some  merit.  He  never 
married.  The  extracts  from  his  diary,  which  extend  from  1843 
to  1864,  were  printed  for  private  circulation.  They  show  that  he 
was  a  very  regular  diarist,  but  confined  his  record  almost  exclu- 
sively to  his  social  activities.  If  ever  he  noted  more  domestic 
and  personal  matters  they  have  been  omitted. 

A  large  number  of  diaries  of  this  description  are  no  doubt  in 


394  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

existence,  many  of  them  locked  up  in  cupboards  in  country 
houses.  Not  even  the  passage  of  centuries  can  very  much  en- 
hance their  value.  Dinners,  functions,  country-house  parties 
are  duly  registered,  with  a  Ust  of  the  people  present.  Here  we 
have  a  man  of  cultivation  in  close  touch  with  all  the  prominent 
people  of  the  day  and  himself  participating  in  the  function  of 
government,  noting  with  regularity  so  many  of  the  more  trivial 
but  impersonal  events  of  his  life  with  very  little  colour  and  ^vith 
only  occasional  brief  expressions  of  opinion.  Lord  Carhsle  un- 
doubtedly never  intended  his  diary  to  be  published,  nor  has  it 
been  pubhshed.  His  purpose  evidently  was  not  to  dig  down 
deep,  but  just  to  make  superficial  memoranda.  Curiously  enough, 
he  comments  favourably  on  the  diary— a  very  different  one— 
of  another  scholar  politician. 

Read  the  manuscript  volume  of  Windham's  diary.  I  should  be  for  publish- 
ing, as  a  cvirious  piece  of  psychology,  the  morbid  nerves  of  a  very  manly  and 
gifted  mind.    ' 

Lord  Carhsle  reminds  us  of  some  of  the  earher  diarists  in  the 
unfaihng  way  in  which  he  notes  sermons  with  a  brief  comment 
on  the  preacher.  He  is  a  great  admirer  of  Samuel  Wilberforce. 
He  shows  his  interest  in  art  and  pictures  and  he  is  a  great  reader. 
He  devours  at  once  all  the  books  of  the  day  as  they  come  out- 
Dickens,  Thackeray,  Kingsley,  Carlyle,  Macaulay,  Grote,  Victor 
Hugo,  etc.,  but  his  comments  are  hardly  worth  quoting;  they 
are  mostly  appreciative  except  in  the  case  of  Carlyle,  whose 
"  faults  of  style  are  all  but  intolerable ;  yet  he  does  entertain 
and  puts  the  scene  before  one." 

He  gives  a  long  account  of  a  dinner  to  Dickens,  at  which  there 
were  speeches. 

Dickens  replied  in  very  good  taste ;  he  said  he  always  fotmd  the  people 
who  were  most  like  his  characters  objected  to  them  as  improbable  and  out  of 
nature  ;  a  Mrs.  Nickleby  had  talked  to  him  in  so  exactly  the  same  strain  that 
he  was  thinking  "  Good  heavens,  she  is  going  to  charge  me  with  putting  her 
name  into  my  book  "  when  she  began  observing  upon  the  character  as  utterly 
unnatural ;   so  with  several  Pecksniffs. 

Macaulay  he  meets  very  often,  and  occasionally  records  part 
of  his  conversation. 

But  generally  it  is  only  the  bare  list  of  names  that  he  notes ; 
which  is  tantalizing,  when,  as  on  one  occasion,  the  following 
amongst  others  dined  with  him  :  Lady  Palmerston,  Sheridan, 
Macaulay,  Prescott,  and  Thackeray. 

Of  Emerson,  whom  he  hears  lecture,  he  writes  : 


GEORGE  HOWARD  395 

I  think  as  I  have  always  done  there  is  so  much  of  heaven  in  his  appearance, 
manners,  voice,  mind  and  fancy  and  in  all  but  his  teaching. 

On  the  death  of  Sir  Robert  Peel  he  enlarges  a  little  more  than 
usual  on  his  character. 

I  can  hardly  say  how  immensely  I  think  his  merits  preponderated  over  his 
defects  ;  there  was  considerable  egotism  and  a  general  want  of  charm  ;  nothing 
very  ethereal.  But  I  believe  him  to  have  been  eminently  pure,  truth  loving, 
with  a  high  ambition  for  his  country  as  well  as  for  himself,  unweariedly  devoted 
to  her  interests  ; — the  prominent  type  of  an  age  whose  great  characteristic  is 
the  love  of  the  useful  in  politics. 

His  position  as  a  Cabinet  minister  necessitated  frequent  visits 
to  Windsor  and  Balmoral,  but  the  only  occasion  on  which  we  get 
anything  beyond  a  formal  report  of  the  proceedings  is  an  accident 
during  the  spearing  of  salmon  at  Balmoral  which  proceeded  while 
the  Queen  was  sketching  on  the  river  bank. 

There  was  a  little  incident ;  two  Highlanders  went  into  a  deep  pool  and 
could  not  swim  out  in  their  clothes  ;  the  Prince  darted  off  to  look  after  them, 
the  Queen  fancied  he  might  go  in  after  them  and  as  I  was  standing  by  her 
pinched  me  very  much. 

He  gives  an  account  of  the  disturbances  in  London  in  1848, 
but  he  abstains  from  touching  on  politics,  only  chronicling 
Cabinet  dinners  and  making  a  bare  mention  of  Parliamentary 
debates. 

During  his  Lord-Lieutenancy  there  is  only  one  entry  which 
goes  behind  formal  official  and  social  matters. 

18G0.  Dec.  5.  They  have  taken  to  talk  treason  and  repeal  again  in  the 
country  but  as  yet  not  formidably. 

Railways  had  only  just  been  introduced.  He  describes  the 
opening  of  one  in  Yorkshire,  and  he  always  uses  the  expression 
"  railed  "  for  travelling  by  train.  Although  he  describes  so  many 
functions  and  ceremonies  he  is  too  much  accustomed  to  them 
to  be  very  much  impressed  by  them.  An  example  may  be  given 
of  his  investiture  with  the  Garter. 

1855.  Feb.  7.  I  railed  to  Windsor  with  Knights  of  the  Garter  actual  and 
elect  and  the  Ellesmere  ladies.  The  Investiture  took  place  in  the  Throne 
room.  There  was  a  great  attendance  of  knights  in  succession — I,  Lord 
Ellesmere  and  Lord  Aberdeen  were  duly  invested.  The  ceremony  produces 
different  effects  upon  minds  of  different  mould.  The  Duchess  of  Sutherland 
thinks  it  very  thrilling  and  very  elevating.  Lady  Ellesmere  could  hardly 
conquer  her  propensity  to  laugh  ;  the  delivery  of  the  old  chivalroiis  charge 
by  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  (Wilberforce)  in  his  earnest  pregnant  accents  is  on 


896  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Harriet's  side  ;  Lord  Fitzwilliam,  walking  backwards  in  very  long  robes  is 
on  Lady  Ellesmere's.  The  dinner  was  in  the  Waterloo  chamber  about  fifty  ; 
very  handsome. 

He  likes  going  to  the  play  almost  as  much  as  listening  to  ser- 
mons. He  seldom  comments  on  his  own  health,  but  the  weather 
is  frequently  noted. 

Nothing  could  be  less  morbid,  egotistical  or  introspective  than 
Lord  Carlisle's  diary.  For  this  reason  perhaps  we  do  not  get 
in  the  regular  formal  entries  much  insight  into  his  personahty. 

The  last  entry  is  dated  June  6,  1864  : 

To-day  concludes  the  eight  years  of  my  vice-reign.  I  ought  to  think  grate- 
fully that  when  called  upon  to  close  it,  it  will  not  at  all  events  be  premature. 

He  died  six  months  later.  His  Diary  in  Turkish  and  Greek 
Waters  (1854)  was  published. 


NASSAU   SENIOR 

THE  journals  pubhshed  by  Nassau  Senior  comprise  jour- 
nals of  ^asits  to  Ireland  in  1852,  1858  and  1862,  journals 
kept  in  France  and  Italy  from  1848  to  1852,  and  journals 
kept  in  Turkey  and  Greece  in  1857  and  1858.  None  of  them  can 
be  described  as  private  diaries.  Senior  was  a  prominent  econo- 
mist in  the  early  nineteenth  century.  He  was  the  first  to  hold 
the  chair  of  Political  Economy  at  Oxford,  he  was  a  member  of  the 
Poor  Law  Inquiry  Commission  of  1832,  and  drew  up  the  report 
of  the  Hand-loom  Weavers  Commission  of  1838.  On  his  travels 
his  object  was  to  make  a  study  of  political,  economic  and  social 
conditions,  and  he  presented  the  result  of  his  investigations  in 
diary  form  from  the  daily  notes  he  made  on  the  spot.  The 
journals,  therefore,  contain  serious  examinations  of  pubhc  pro- 
blems and  events,  reheved  here  and  there  by  descriptions  of 
scenery.  To  analyse  them  adequately  would  involve  a  com- 
prehensive discussion  of  the  pohtical  situation  both  at  home  and 
abroad  and  of  the  economic  problems  vsdth  wliich  statesmen  were 
confronted  in  the  'fifties.  This  would  carry  us  very  far  beyond 
our  present   purpose. 

By  confining  himself  to  a  recital  and  consideration  of  purely 
public  events  Senior  gave  a  weight  and  value  to  his  books  which 
places  them  in  a  very  different  category  from  the  social  diaries 


COLONEL  A.   PONSONBY  397 

in  which  passing  references  to  political  events  are  found  buried 
in  social  gossip.  It  is  doubtful  whether  his  descriptions  of 
scenery  do  not  interrupt  rather  than  assist  his  discourse,  and  we 
are  inchned  to  think  that  the  diary  form  is  not  very  suitable 
for  a  work  of  this  character.  But  Senior  has  a  characteristic 
in  his  writing  shared  only  by  one  other  diarist.  Like  Fanny 
Burney  he  reports  conversations  at  length.  He  had  so  retentive 
a  memory  that  he  was  able  with  the  assistance  of  a  few  notes  to 
commit  to  the  pages  of  his  journal  with  remarkable  accuracy 
long  and  elaborate  conversations.  His  object  being  to  acquire 
information  and  having  no  desire  to  shine  himself,  we  get  very 
little  of  his  own  opinions ;  and  this  absence  of  self-assertion 
further  accentuates  the  entirely  impersonal  character  of  his 
writing.  In  the  journals  in  France  and  Italy  more  especially 
there  are  a  number  of  these  conversations,  as  he  was  in  a  position 
to  come  in  contact  with  many  of  the  leading  public  men  of  the 
day.  The  volumes  on  Ireland  also  contain  a  number  of  conver- 
sations with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  people  he  meets,  some 
on  abstract  as  well  as  economic  matters  and  some  giving  pictu- 
resque illustration  of  Irish  characters  and  customs.  At  the  time 
they  were  pubhshed  these  books,  which  dealt  with  subjects  and 
situations  which  were  matters  of  considerable  importance  at  the 
moment,  received  a  good  deal  of  attention.  To-day  their  interest 
is  very  much  diminished,  although  they  remain  examples  of  the 
comprehensive  and  painstaking  methods  of  investigation  of  their 
author. 


COLONEL  A.   PONSONBY 

IN  all  probability  the  larger  number  of  diaries  in  existence 
are  those  which  are  in  manuscript  written  by  people  who 
never  reached  sufficient  eminence  to  have  their  biographies 
compiled  and  who  were  not  specially  prominent  in  any  sphere. 
It  does  not  follow,  of  course,  that  these  are  bad  diaries,  but  no 
doubt  a  large  number  of  them  do  not  appear  to  the  families  who 
possess  them  to  be  worthy  of  publication.  Colonel  Arthur 
Ponsonby's  diary  is  included  here  as  an  example,  being  more  or 
less  typical  of  this  class  of  diary.  Nevertheless,  it  has  distinctive 
features  which  would  not  be  commonly  found  in  all  such  diaries. 
To  begin  with,  he  wrote  with  the  most  scrupulous  daily  regu- 
larity. Hardly  a  break  occurs  throughout  his  life  from  the  age  of 
22  in  1849,  when  he  began,  to  within  two  days  of  his  death  in 


398  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

1868.  The  diary  fills  fourteen  volumes  with  an  extra  volume 
of  early  reminiscences.  It  was  for  himself  that  he  kept  a  diary, 
"  having  found  it  a  useful  book  of  reference  and  also  to  myself 
an  interesting  one."  Several  of  the  volumes  are  fully  indexed, 
which  shows  that  he  must  have  re-read  them  very  carefully.  It  is 
seldom  that  he  begins  an  entry  without  noting  the  weather,  and 
in  some  volumes  there  are  temperature  and  weather  charts.  His 
scores  at  cricket  matches  are  entered  in  lists,  his  dinner  parties, 
the  letters  he  writes  and  his  weight.  On  several  occasions  he 
enters  his  accounts,  card  debts,  etc.  The  first  time  he  does  this  in 
1850,  after  a  page  or  so  of  items  of  expenditure  he  leaves  off  and 
writes  :  "  Left  off  here,  it  was  such  a  bore  and  not  much  use." 
Another  distinctive  feature  of  the  diary  is  that  it  is  illustrated 
with  little  drawings  of  people,  sketches  of  places,  and  caricatures, 
including  several  of  himself. 

Colonel  Ponsonby  had  a  by  no  means  uneventful  career.  He 
was  the  second  son  of  General  Sir  Frederick  Ponsonby,  who  at  the  j 
time  of  his  son's  birth  was  Governor  of  Malta.  The  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington was  his  godfather.  He  first  obtained  a  commission  in  the 
43rd  line  regiment,  and  was  quartered  in  Ireland ;  he  served 
in  the  Kaffir  war  in  South  Africa,  received  a  commission  in  the 
Grenadier  Guards  and  went  out  to  the  Crimea,  served  on  the 
staff  in  Corfu,  and  finally  was  sent  to  India  as  Lieutenant-Colonel 
of  the  12th  Regiment  in  1864,  where  he  remained  till  his  death. 
Between  each  of  these  periods  there  were  intervals  in  London, 
Ireland  and  other  parts  of  the  country. 

As  to  the  general  character  of  the  diary,  it  is  a  typical  soldier's 
diary,  merely  recording  the  daily  incidents  of  regimental  life 
or  military  fife  on  active  service,  with  many  notes  about  games, 
sport,  racing,  entertainments,  theatricals,  dinner  parties,  etc., 
etc.,  and  very  little  else — a  full  record  of  doings,  in  fact,  without 
any  thoughts  or  reflections.  The  doings,  too,  are  related  very 
baldly,  although  sometimes  he  enlarges  on  questions  of  policy 
and  strategy  in  war  time  and  shows  an  interest  in  the  political 
gossip  of  the  day.  In  fact,  in  1857  he  unsuccessfully  contested  a 
seat  in  Ireland  and  gives  an  account  of  his  canvassing  and  meet- 
ings.    Recording  his  first  meeting,  he  says  : 

It  is  not  as  disagreeable  as  I  expected.  But  one  man  questioned  me  and 
one  Quaker  female  talked  bosh.     All  very  civil — the  tories  also. 

When  he  is  in  London  he  notes  dinners  and  plays  and  a  good 
deal  about  the  opera,  Avith  criticism  of  the  performers  and  great 
enthusiasm  about  the  music.     His  accounts  of  dances  give  one  a 


COLONEL  A.   PONSONBY  399 

slight  indication  from  time  to  time  of  his  preference  for  certain 
of  his  partners.  But  Colonel  Ponsonby  had  no  inclination,  even 
if  he  had  the  capacity,  to  note  his  inner  feelings.  In  fact,  one 
finds  him  deliberately  avoiding  it,  as,  for  instance,  when  his 
greatest  friend  with  whom  he  had  been  in  constant  companion- 
ship leaves  South  Africa,  he  writes  : 

The  fatal  steamer  had  arrived  which  is  to  carry  A.  oft.  All  confusion,  as  she 
only  waited  an  hour — walked  down  to  see  him  off. 

And  then  he  scores  three  or  four  blank  lines  with  his  pen  as  an 
expression  of  his  feelings. 

His  elder  brother,  to  whom  he  is  specially  devoted,  he  does 
refer  to  on  more  than  one  occasion  with  some  warmth  :  "  There 
cannot  be  a  kinder  brother  on  earth  than  he  is,"  "  the  best  brother 
in  the  world." 

It  is  inevitable  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  and  coldly  impersonal 
journal  that  when  a  man  writes  practically  every  day  throughout 
his  life  he  cannot  avoid  some  comment  on  his  deeper  experiences, 
however  much  he  may  want  to  conceal  his  feelings  even  from 
himself.  So  in  this  diary,  where  there  is  no  attempt  at  intro- 
spective analysis  of  emotions,  little  sentences  and  expressions 
emerge  which  betray  his  sentiments.  For  instance,  he  naturally 
as  a  daily  diarist  makes  notes  about  his  health.  On  one  occasion 
in  1862,  in  India,  he  is  more  seriously  ill ;  he  fears  it  is  Bright's 
disease  and  writes  :  "  Fatal !  !  !  !  well,  I  shan't  be  sorry."  Those 
half-dozen  words  in  a  reticent  writer  are  more  eloquent  than  pages 
of  groaning.  So  one  is  inclined  to  pass  somewhat  rapidly  over 
the  daily  entries  and  the  long  descriptions  of  travel,  of  experi- 
ences on  active  service,  of  hunting  and  cricket  matches,  in  order 
to  try  and  discover  more  of  the  man.  But  he  says  practically 
nothing  about  himself  except  that  he  is  shy. 

Nevertheless,  in  the  later  years  of  the  journal  the  story  of  the 
romance  and  at  the  same  time  the  trouble  of  his  life  threads 
itself  through  the  colourless  record  of  his  doings.  One  would 
not  be  justified  in  detaching  the  little  sentences  of  affection,  of 
hope  and  of  despair  which  he  cannot  help  jotting  in  his  diary. 
The  Greek  young  lady  with  whom  he  falls  in  love  when  in  Corfu 
is  always  referred  to  by  him  with  affection  and  pity.  But  from 
her  actions  which  are  recorded — her  caprices,  her  fhghts  and  her 
childishness — something  can  be  gathered  of  the  trials  he  en- 
dured. Once  there  is  a  note  of  desperation,  but  never  a  syllable 
of  complaint  or  regret.  He  never  fails  her,  and  finally  marries 
her  the  day  before  he  leaves  for  India.     There  is  a  brief  entry  : 


400  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

An  event   of  my  life,  went  with  ...  to  the  registry  office,  did  the  busi- 


ness. 


The  diarv'  ends  in  June.  1868  ;  cholera  is  raging,  the  entries 
tell  of  its  ravages.  On  June  14  he  records  a  death  and  adds, 
"  But  no  new  cases  since  the  11th."  He  himself  died  two  days 
later  on  June  16.  His  wife  survived  him  for  thirteen  years, 
He  had  no  children. 

Colonel  Ponsonby  was  known  to  his  friends  as  a  very  amusing 
and  unconventional  man.  But  there  is  nothing  in  the  diary 
which  would  give  a  reader  this  impression.  One  gathers  he  has 
a  sense  of  humour  by  some  of  the  drawings  and  by  some  witty 
anecdotes  he  writes  down.  But  his  powers  of  narrative  and 
description  were  limited,  and  he  makes  very  httle  out  of  his  quite 
interesting  experiences. 


LIEUT.-GEXER.\L   SIR  CHARLES  \^1XDHAM 

IN  the  Crimean  War,  between  September  1S54  and  September 
1855.  General  ^Yindham  kept  a  diary  which  is  httle  more  than 
a  military  record  of  events. 
Originally  an  officer  in  the  Coldstream  Guards,  Windham  accom- 
panied Sir  George  Cathcart  to  the  Crimea  as  Assistant  Quarter- 
master-General. After  his  arrival  he  notes  down  the  daily  events 
of  the  prolonged  siege  of  Sebastopol,  his  object  no  doubt  being 
to  keep  a  record  for  his  fanuly.  He  seldom  refers  to  his  own 
feehngs  except  when  an  engagement  is  pending.  Before  the 
battle  of  the  x\lma  he  writes  : 

It  was  my  first  fight  and  I  was  quit«  astounded  at  my  cookiess.     I  did  not 
feel  a  bit  more  nervous  than  I  should  have  done  in  Hyde  Park. 

And  before  the  battle  of  Inkerman,  in  which  he  distinguished 
himself : 

This  week  will  bring  a  change  to  many  and  on  this  comer  of  a  small  peninsula 
wiU  take  place  events  that  will  shake  States  and  make  families  in  countries 
iar  away  shed  many  a  bitter  tear.  May  mine  not  be  one  of  them  is  my  most 
earnest  prayer  to  God- 

He  is  extremely  critical,  and  comments  frequently  on  the  mis- 
management of  affairs.  He  says  in  one  place  that  perhaps  he 
indulges  too  much  in  "  grumble  and  complaint."  But  in  aU 
probabihty  his  strictures  were  only  too  well  founded,  as  the  mis- 


LEEUT.-GEN.   SIR  CHARLES  WINDHAM  401 

management  of  both  organization  and  military  tactics  in  the 
Crimean  War  is  now  a  matter  of  common  knowledge.  The 
entries,  written  with  few  breaks  almost  daily,  give  the  fresh 
impressions  of  the  moment,  and  although  they  deal  with  the 
details  of  the  campaign,  he  shows  the  penetration  and  judgment 
of  one  who  can  grasp  the  whole  situation. 
We  vriW  give  some  of  the  critical  passages  : 

Oct.  IS.  This  long  range  firing  is  all  nonsense  ;  moreover  the  Russians  are 
better  at  it  than  we  are  and  from  all  I  can  see  our  present  attackis  an  absurdity. 

Dec.  12.  li  England  and  France  strain  every  nerve  and  send  every  man  I 
do  not  say  but  folly  may  ultimately  be  made  triumphant ;  without  this  I 
doubt  it.  How  creditable  to  have  to  say  that  all  our  sick  are  carried  to 
Balaclava  by  the  French  mules,  our  own  ambulance  corps  being  fovmd  per- 
fectly useless,  the  pensioners  sick  or  drunk,  the  mules  used  up  or  dead. 

Feb.  8.  But  I  must  control  myseK  even  in  this  journal  although  it  is 
unquestionably  disgusting  to  be  put  tinder  such  a  system  and  to  see  men 
rewarded  as  those  at  Headquarters  have  been,  for  casting  ruin  and  havoc  to 
the  right  and  left  through  their  ignorance  or  rather  want  of  forethought  and 
business  habits. 

March  23.  But  I  will  not  go  on  growling.  For  my  part  I  think  everjrthing 
on  the  part  of  the  allies  so  slackly  performed  that  I  am  perfectly  disgusted. 

April  7.  I  have  received  this  night  an  order  to  prepare  for  an  attack  to- 
morrow and  even,"thing  is  ordered  to  be  in  readiness.  For  aught  I  know  it  may 
please  God  to  prevent  my  seeing  wife  or  children  again  in  this  world  ;  and 
therefore  I  am  writing  with  serious  feelings  and  with  no  lenity.  Yet  I  wish 
to  record  my  feelings  ;  and  I  do  say  that  the  imbecility  of  the  conduct  of  the 
allies  arising  from  I  know  not  what  beyond  pure  stupidity  surpasses  human 
comprehension. 

April  26.  y^Tiat  a  pity  it  is  that  we  should  have  no  real  leader  in  either 
Army.  The  French  are,  I  think,  worse  off  than  we  are.  They  have  as  much 
prejxidice  and  more  conceit. 

He  has  a  great  admiration  for  Sir  George  Cathcart,  who  fell  at 
Inkerman,  and  wishes  he  had  been  appointed  Commander-in- 
Chief.     At  first  he  has  doubts  about  Lord  Raglan. 

I  hope  that  with  his  ' '  baton  ' '  he  will  flog  matters  on  a  little  faster  than  he 
has  done  hitherto,  but  I  doubt  it.  He  has  not  sufficient  energy  and  is  far  too 
old  for  his  post. 

However,  at  a  later  dat€  he  revises  this  judgment,  and  says  : 

He  is  an  amiable  man,  the  oldest  soldier,  and  I  believe,  ii  left  to  himsdf, 
the  best. 

His  comment  on  the  charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  at  Balaclava 
is  : 

26 


402  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Captain  Nolan,  who  took  the  orders  to  Lord  Cardigan,  was  kiUed  charging 
at  the  head  of  the  Light  Cavalry.  Although  a  good  f eUow  from  all  I  can  learn, 
his  conduct  was  inexcusable.  His  whole  object  appears  to  have  been  to  have 
a  charge  at  the  Russians  at  any  cost,  but  he  could  not  have  chosen  a  worse 
time, 

Windham's  great  exploit  was  the  assault  he  led  on  the  Redan, 
one  of  the  strongest  salients  in  the  Russian  fortification  of  Sebas- 
topol.  Although  he  has  misgivings  about  the  attack,  he  welcomes 
the  exploit,  as  he  is  a  lover  of  action  and  hates  the  waiting  and 
delay  in  the  trenches. 

The  day  before  (September  7)  he  writes  : 

If  my  brigade  is  ordered  to  lead  the  assault  against  the  Redan  it  is  a  hundred 
to  one  that  I  am  killed  ;  but  better  far  die  so  than  get  ignominiously  hit  in 
the  trenches. 

After  sleeping  well  he  makes  some  jottings  in  his  diary  on  the 
morning  of  September  8,  in  which  this  passage  occurs  : 

And  now  my  dear  Pem  [his  wife]  this  journal  I  have  ordered  to  be  sent  to 
you  provided  I  am  never  to  write  in  it  again.  It  is  written  hurriedly  and  in 
some  places  violently  but  always  honestly. 

We  have  a  short  account  of  the  assault,  written  on  the  actual 
evening,  which  is  worth  giving  in  full : 

The  assault  took  place  alone  and  I  went  over  the  Parallel  at  the  head  of  the 
41st.  The  Grenadiers  followed  me  pretty  well  but  not  in  the  best  order.  I 
went  straight  at  the  ditch  and  did  all  that  man  could  do  to  get  them  into  the 
centre  of  the  battery  but  it  was  no  go.  I  ran  out  into  the  middle  of  the 
battery  with  my  sword  over  my  head,  but  it  was  useless.  They  would  stick 
to  their  gabions  and  to  firing  and  not  come  to  the  bayonet ;  so  after  holding 
on  to  it  for  near  an  hour  and  having  sent  back  Swire  twice,  a  young  officer  Lieut. 
Young  of  the  19th  and  Colonel  Eman  to  tell  Codrington  that  he  must  send  me 
the  supports  in  some  formation  I  went  back  myself  and  asked  leave  to  have  a 
fresh  battalion. 

This  was  granted  and  I  put  myself  at  the  head  of  the  Royals.  Whilst 
Codrington  was  considering  whether  he  would  let  me  go  on  or  not,  the  whole 
attacking  force  fell  back  leaving  behind  numbers  of  kiUed  and  wounded. 

If  I  could  have  got  the  men  of  the  storming  party  to  make  a  rush  I  should 
have  carried  it ;  but  I  never  could.  They  were  all  in  disorder  and  each  looking 
out  for  himself.  The  officers  behaved  well  and  so  did  the  men  as  mdividuals 
but  not  coUectively.  Came  back  very  hoarse.  Poor  Roger  Swire  is  badly 
wounded. 

Windham's  waving  sword  was  great.  But  his  pen  cannot  do 
justice  to  the  incident.  The  assault  failed,  but  Windham's  repu- 
tation was  made.  He  was  known  afterwards  as  "  Redan  Wind- 
ham."   He  was  appointed  Governor  of  the  surrendered  part  of 


GEORGE  ELIOT  408 

Sebastopol,  during  which  time  he  only  made  a  few  more  entries 
in  his  diary.  On  his  return  to  England  he  was  received  with 
great  honour,  specially  in  his  native  county  of  Norfolk.  He  was 
afterwards  knighted.  After  being  an  M.P,  for  a  few  months  he 
was  sent  out  to  India  during  the  Mutiny.  In  1867  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  command  the  forces  in  Canada,  and  he  died  in  1870. 

Like  many  other  soldiers,  he  was  not  a  diary  writer  and  only 
kept  a  record  in  time  of  war.  The  entries,  though  they  are 
exclusively  concerned  with  the  military  events  of  the  moment, 
show  us  a  masterful,  self-confident  man  with  a  keen  sense  of  duty 
and  with  little  or  no  sense  of  humour.  He  sums  himself  up  in 
the  following  paragraph  : 

In  fact  I  worked  hard  ;  feel  convinced  that  I  did  my  duty  like  a  good 
soldier,  feeling  no  funk.  I  am  siu-e  T  showed  none  and  therefore  whether  I 
am  mentioned  or  not  in  despatches  is  a  matter  of  indifference. 

His  son,  Captain  Windham,  published  the  diary  in  1897, 
together  with  a  number  of  his  father's  letters,  which  fill  more 
colour  and  detail  into  the  picture. 


GEORGE   ELIOT 

CROSS'S  Life  of  George  Eliot  is  composed  of  extracts  from 
her  letters  and  her  journal.  While  the  whole  diary  is  not 
given,  and  in  all  probability  the  more  intimate  and  personal 
entries  are  omitted,  we  gather  from  George  Eliot's  references 
;o  her  journal  that  she  was  not  a  regular  daily  writer,  although 
it  times  the  entries  are  frequent.  But  she  acknowledges  some- 
;imes  that  weeks  and  months  have  elapsed  without  any  entry 
Deing  made.  The  first  extract  given  is  in  1855  ;  but  she  mentions 
laving  begun  the  diary  in  1849,  and  that  book  she  finishes  in 
.861.  She  starts  another  book  which  lasts  her  till  1877,  when 
;he  writes  : 

I  To-day  I  say  a  final  farewell  to  tliis  little  book  wliich  is  the  only  record  I 
ave  made  of  my  personal  life  for  sixteen  years  and  more.  I  have  often  been 
lelped  in  looking  back  on  it  to  compare  former  with  actual  states  of  despond- 
ncy  from  bad  health  or  other  apparent  causes.  In  this  way  a  past  despond- 
ncy  has  turned  to  present  hopefulness.  ...  I  shall  record  no  more  in  this 
ook  because  I  am  going  to  keep  a  more  business-like  diary. 

And  from  that  date  she  only  makes  one-line  occasional  memo- 
anda  of  engagements,  etc. 


404  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

George  Eliot  wrote  for  herself.  The  diary  contains  chiefly 
records  with  regard  to  her  writing  and  reading,  travels,  and 
health,  and  several  notes  about  concerts  and  her  love  of  music. 

Its  dryness  and  severity  is  relieved  by  more  expansive  passages 
in  which  she  refers  to  her  great  devotion  to  George  Lewes,  with 
whom  she  lived  from  1854  till  he  died,  and  more  especially  to  the 
deep  depression  she  passes  through  on  account  of  her  health. 
At  the  end  of  the  year  she  often  makes  a  sort  of  review  of  the 
past  twelve  months. 

One  might  suppose  that  a  learned  woman  of  a  deeply  philoso- 
phic temperament  would,  when  at  the  age  of  38  she  began  pub- 
lishing novels,  have  regarded  their  reception  with  calm,  if  not 
indifference.  It  comes,  therefore,  as  a  surprise,  but  at  the  same 
time  as  a  pleasing  testimony  of  the  human  side  of  her  nature,  to 
find  by  her  diary  that  her  excitement  and  elation  at  her  success 
is  hardly  surpassed  by  Fanny  Burney  on  the  publication  of 
Evelina  when  she  was  25  ;  and,  like  Fanny,  in  her  first  pride  of 
secret  authorship  she  collects  and  records  every  word  of  praise 
and  commendation  she  receives  or  hears  of.  Entries  of  this 
description  are  not  confined  to  her  first  book,  but  her  subsequent 
successes  are  duly  registered. 

Amos  Barton,  the  first  of  the  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,"  appeared 
in  1857,  and  was  an  immediate  success.  There  was  a  good  deal 
of  mystification  about  the  authorship.  Mr.  GilfiVs  Love  Story 
and  Janet's  Repentance  followed  soon  after. 

Mr.  John  Blackwood  already  expressed  himself  with  much  greater  warmth 
of  admiration  ;  and  when  the  first  part  had  appeared  he  sent  me  a  charming 
letter  with  a  cheque  for  fifty  guineas.  .  .  .  Albert  Smith  sent  him  a  letter 
saying  he  had  never  read  anything  that  affected  him  more. 

Received  letter  from  Blackwood  expressing  his  approbation  of  Mr.  Gilfil's 
Love  Story.  He  writes  very  pleasantly,  says  the  series  is  attributed  by  many 
to  Bulwer  and  that  Thackeray  thinks  highly  of  it.  This  was  a  pleasant  fillip 
to  me  who  am  just  now  ready  to  be  dispirited  on  the  slightest  pretext. 

The  other  day  we  had  a  pleasant  letter  from  Herbert  Spencer  saying  he 
had  heard  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love  Story  discussed ...  all  expressing  warm  approval 
and  curiosity  as  to  the  author. 

Of  the  many  letters  she  received,  perhaps  the  best  and  the  most 
really  comphmentary  and  gratifying  was  from  Dickens,  who  was 
never  taken  in  by  supposing  the  author  was  a  man.  Dickens 
became  a  friend  later  on,  and  she  notes  in  her  diary  his  coming 
to  dinner.  A  few  extracts  may  be  given  with  regard  to  her  other 
books. 


i 


GEORGE  ELIOT  405 


Adam  Bede : 


Blackwood  told  me  the  first  ab  extra  opinion  of  the  book  which  happened  to 
be  precisely  what  I  most  desired.  A  cabinet  maker  had  read  the  sheets  and 
declared  the  writer  must  have  been  brought  up  to  the  business  or  at  least  had 
listened  to  the  workmen  in  their  workshop. 

Blackwood  writes  to  say  I  am  "  a  popular  author  as  well  as  a  great  author." 
They  printed  2090  of  Adam  Bede  and  have  disposed  of  more  than  1800  so  they 
were  thinking  about  a  second  edition.  A  very  feeling  letter  from  Froude  this 
morning. 

I  have  left  off  recording  the  history  of  Adam  Bede  and  the  pleasant  letters 
and  words  that  came  to  me — the  success  has  been  so  triumphantly  beyond 
anything  I  had  dreamed  of  that  it  would  be  tiresome  to  put  down  particulars. 

To  such  a  height  had  her  reputation  risen  that  she  records  an 
offer  from  a  pubhsher  who  was  ready  to  pay  £10,000  for  Romola, 
but  according  to  an  entry  later  on  the  final  arrangement  was  to 
I^ublish  Romola  in  the  Cornhill  Magazine  for  £7,000.  For  Felix 
Holt  she  received  £5,000,  and  of  Middlemarch  she  says  : 

No  former  book  of  mme  has  been  received  with  more  enthusiasm — ^not  even 
Adam  Bede. 

And  of  David  Deronda  : 

The  success  of  the  work  at  present  is  greater  than  that  of  Middlemareh  up 
to  the  corresponding  point  of  publication. 

So  far  as  the  reception  of  her  novels  was  concerned  she  had 
nothing  to  complain  of.  To  George  Lewes  she  refers  constantly 
in  terms  of  great  affection.  She  reads  her  manuscripts  to  him, 
and  he  encourages  her.  She  is  interested  in  his  literary  work, 
and  they  enjoy  together  travel,  study,  music  and  intellectual 
discussion.     A  couple  of  brief  entries  in  1858  show  this  : 

Jan.  24.  G.  came  in  the  evening  at  10  o'clock — after  I  had  suffered  a  great 
deal  in  thinking  of  the  possibilities  that  might  prevent  him  from  coming. 

Jan.  25.  This  morning  I  have  read  to  G.  all  I  have  written  during  his 
absence  and  he  approves  it  more  than  I  expected. 

The  intellectual  level  was  fearfully  high,  judging  by  the  enormous 
quantity  of  books  she  notes  as  having  been  read.  For  Romola, 
for  instance,  the  list  of  Italian  works  she  devoured  occupies  a 
printed  page.  But  in  reading  George  Eliot's  diary  the  question 
that  presses  on  one  is  not  that  which  has  often  been  discussed 
as  to  whether  her  excessive  erudition  was  not  on  the  whole  damag- 
ing to  her  genius  as  a  writer  of  fiction,  but  the  opposite  one,  how 


406  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

this   abnormally   learned   metaphysically-minded   woman   could 
have   created   Mrs.   Poyser,   Hetty,    Amos   Barton,    Gwendolen, 

This  sort  of  entry  occurs  frequently : 

Began  Part  IV  of  Spinoza's  Ethics.  Began  also  to  read  Gumming  for 
article  in  the  "  Westminster."  We  are  reading  in  the  evenings  now  Sydney- 
Smith's  letters,  Boswell,  Whewell's  '  History  of  Inductive  Sciences,'  the 
Odyssey  and  occasionally  Heine's  Reisebilder.  I  began  the  second  book  of  the 
Iliad  in  Greek  this  morning. 

Walked  with  George  over  Primrose  Hill.     We  talked  of  Plato  and  Aristotle. 

As  time  goes  on,  in  spite  of  success  and  domestic  happiness, 
in  spite  of  the  big  cheques  and  all  the  favourable  opportunities 
for  travel  and  intellectual  pursuits,  the  most  notable  feature 
of  the  diary  is  the  constant  record  of  overwhelming  depressions, 
which  were  caused  largely  by  ill  health.  A  few  quotations  will 
show  that  she  confided  to  the  diary,  and  perhaps  to  the  diary 
alone,  the  recurrence  of  these  moods  of  deep  despondency. 

1860.  My  want  of  health  and  strength  has  prevented  me  from  working 
much — stiU  worse  has  made  me  despair  of  ever  working  well  again. 

1861.  Struggling  constantly  with  depression.  Got  into  a  state  of  so  much 
wretchedness  in  attempting  to  concentrate  my  thoughts  on  the  construction 
of  my  story  that  I  became  desperate  and  suddenly  burst  my  bonds,  saying,  I 
will  not  think  of  writing. 

1862.  Have  been  reading  some  entries  in  my  note  book  of  past  times  in 
which  I  recorded  my  malaise  and  despair.  But  it  is  impossible  that  I  have 
ever  been  in  so  unpromising  and  despairing  a  state  as  I  now  feel. 

I  am  extremely  spiritless,  dead,  and  hopeless  about  my  writing.  The  long 
state  of  headache  has  left  me  in  depression  and  incapacity. 

1864.  Horrible  scepticism  about  aU  things  paralysing  my  naind.  Shall  I 
ever  be  good  for  anything  again  ?     Ever  do  anything  again  ? 

In  the  retrospect  at  the  end  of  this  year  she  only  refers  to  bad 
health  and  repeats  a  tribute  to  George  Lewes  for  "  his  perfect 
love." 

1866.  HI  ever  since  I  came  home  so  that  the  days  seem  to  have  made  a 
muddy  flood  sweeping  away  all  iaboiir  and  all  growth. 

In  1868  her  review  of  the  year  is  more  cheerful.     She  ends  up  : 

We  have  had  no  real  trouble.  I  wish  we  were  not  in  a  minority  of  our 
fellow  men  !  I  desire  no  added  blessing  for  the  coming  year  but  this — that 
I  may  do  some  good  lasting  work  and  make  both  my  outward  and  inward 
habits  less  imperfect — that  is  more  directly  tending  to  the  best  uses  of  life. 


JOHN  ADDINGTON  SYMONDS  407 

After  this  the  entries  in  the  diary  are  fewer.  There  is  only  one 
more  review  of  the  year,  written  on  January  1,  1874.  It  is  cheer- 
ful in  tone,  although  at  the  end  she  says  ; 

I  have  been  for  a  month  rendered  almost  helpless  for  intellectual  work  by 
constant  headaches  but  am  getting  a  little  more  freedom.  Nothing  is  wanting 
to  my  blessings  but  the  uninterrupted  power  of  work.  For  as  to  all  my 
unchangeable  imperfections  I  have  resigned  myself. 

She  notes  in  her  diary,  "  a  great  gap  since  I  last  made  a  record," 
and  indeed  there  are  few  other  entries  before  she  concludes  the 
notebook  in  1879  with  the  remark  above  quoted.  It  would  seem 
as  if  she  outgrew  the  habit  of  noting  her  moods  and  decided 
to  keep  only  very  brief  memoranda  of  her  doings.  Even  her 
marriage  to  Mr.  Cross  in  1880  is  simply  noted  in  the  baldest 
possible  way. 

George  Eliot's  diary  is  definitely  restricted  to  the  progress 
and  business  connected  with  her  writing,  the  books  she  read, 
notes  with  regard  to  her  movements  and  visits  abroad,  and  the 
people  she  meets  and  rather  fuller  confessions  as  to  her  health 
and  spirits.  But  she  never  says  one  word  of  praise,  criticism  or 
description  of  the  people  she  meets.  Nor  does  she  write  in  her 
journal  any  reflections  on  life  in  general.  Needless  to  say,  George 
Ehot  makes  no  remarks  in  her  diary  about  her  food  or  about 
her  domestic  servants,  not  that  she  could  not  have  been  very 
entertaining  on  both  these  subjects.  Editing  has  probably  de- 
prived us  of  much  that  would  give  us  a  closer  knowledge  of  this 
remarkable  woman. 


JOHN  ADDINGTON  SYMONDS  ^ 

MR.  HORATIO  BROWNE,  Symonds'  biographer,  had, 
he  tells  us,  an  abundance  of  material  at  his  disposal  in 
compiling  his  book.  In  addition  to  thirty  published 
volumes,  notebooks,  letters  and  memoranda,  he  found  an  auto- 
biography and  diaries.  In  his  intention,  which  he  carries  out 
very  skilfully  and  scrupulously,  to  make  Symonds  himself  tell 
the  story  of  his  life,  he  quotes  largely  from  the  diaries  and  auto- 
biography. But  the  extracts  from  the  diaries  are  necessarily 
brief  compared  to  the  diaries  themselves,  though  they  are  sufl&- 

1 ________^___w 

^  The  Diary  extracts  are  quoted  from  John  Addington  Symonds,  by  Horatio 
Browne,  with  the  kind  permission  of  Mr.  John  Murray. 


408  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

cient  to  show  us  the  purposes  for  which  he  kept  his  diary  and 
his  manner  and  method  of  writing  in  it.  Symonds,  apart  from 
his  wonderful  capacity  for  expression,  had  an  almost  morbid 
love  of  self-analysis  and  self-dissection,  and  the  outpourings  of 
his  soul  would  no  doubt  include  passages  of  such  an  intimate 
character  that  a  biographer  would  hesitate  to  publish  them. 

Symonds  was  born  in  1840,  and  he  first  kept  a  diary  when  he 
was  18.  It  concerns  his  travels,  and  so  rapidly  does  he  acquire 
the  diary  habit  that  the  book,  covering  233  pages,  is  carefully 
indexed  at  the  end.  In  1860,  when  at  Balliol,  he  begins  again, 
and  practically  never  left  off  till  the  day  before  he  died.  The 
diary  opens  thus  : 

It  is  rather  adventurous  to  begin  keeping  a  journal  after  so  many  faUurea 
and  without  the  unity  of  subject  which  I  thought  so  necessary  to  make  the 
trouble  endurable.  Yet  as  I  consider  a  diary  useful  as  a  raechanical  memory 
and  interesting  personally  for  the  future,  I  shall  attempt  to  keep  one.  The 
custom  of  writing  while  abroad  will  miake  it  easier  to  do  so  here  and  my 
unity  of  subject  must  be  exoteric.  The  journey  was  decidedly  historical  and 
exoteric.  This  I  will  try  to  make  more  a  record  of  what  passes  in  myself  and 
my  more  private  concerns. 

Later  on  he  makes  the  following  remark  on  diary  writing : 

Diary  good  for  thoughts,  not  for  things.  Ordinary  log  book  a  poor  affair. 
Useless  to  eliminate  what  others  ought  not  to  see.  Danger  of  overdoing 
emotion. 

Nevertheless,  his  own  highly-strung  artistic  temperament  was 
certainly  emotional,  and  his  bad  health  contributed  to  his  internal 
despondency.  These  moods  of  depression,  however,  he  confided 
to  his  diary.  His  friends  could  hardly  guess  the  presence  of  this 
inward  turmoil.  As  Mr.  Browne  says,  "  It  is  possible  that  many 
who  met  Symonds  did  not  surmise  behind  the  brilliant  audacious 
exterior,  underlying  the  witty  conversation  and  the  keen  enjoy- 
ment of  life  and  movement  about  him,  this  central  core  of  spiritual 
pain  "  ;  and  again,  "  all  through  the  diary  underlying  his  studies, 
underlying  his  affection  for  his  friends,  runs  the  perpetual  strain 
of  self-analysis,  comparison,  criticism,  reproach."  For  Symonds 
a  diary  was  a  real  secret  confidant,  nor  did  he  shrink  from  its 
falling  into  the  hands  of  his  friend  after  he  had  gone. 

We  need  hardly  dwell  on  his  constant  illness,  except  to  say 
that  such  expressions  as  these  occur  again  and  again  :  "  bad 
depressed  headache,"  "  painful  reveries,"  "  weary  dreams," 
"  weak  and  melancholy,"  "  three  bad  nights  in  succession  have 
made  me  weak  and  nervous."     "  my  depression  is  extreme." 


JOHN  ADDINGTON   SYMONDS  409 

His  self-analysis  is  acute  and  merciless.  A  few  instances 
may  be  given  in  the  earlier  years. 

A  man  may  have  susceptibilities  of  genius  without  any  of  its  creative  power  ; 
but  if  he  has  any  atom  of  talent  he  cannot  be  without  practical  energy. 

I  may  rave  but  I  shall  never  rend  the  heavens  :  I  may  sit  and  sing  but  I 
shall  never  make  earth  listen. 

And  I  am  not  strong  enough  to  be  good — what  is  left  ?  I  do  not  feel  strong 
enough  to  be  bad. 

The  sum  of  intellectual  progress  I  hoped  for  has  been  obtained,  but  how  much 
below  my  hopes.  My  character  has  developed  but  in  what  puny  proportions, 
below  my  meanest  anticipations.  I  do  not  feel  a  man.  This  book  is  an 
evidence  of  the  yearnings  without  power  and  the  brooding  self-analysis 
without  creation  that  afflict  me.     I  am  not  a  man. 

His  artistic  appreciations  are  very  deep  and  penetrating, 
whether  for  painting,  architecture,  music,  poetry,  or  nature. 
And  from  a  quite  early  age  he  is  able  to  give  descriptions  of  what 
he  sees  and  hears  which  show,  not  only  an  exceptional  power  of 
expression,  but  a  still  more  exceptional  power  of  observation  of 
eye  and  of  memory.  In  the  accounts  he  gives  in  his  diary  of  his 
travels  in  the  Alps  and  in  Italy,  there  is  a  beauty  of  language  which 
places  them  on  a  very  different  level  from  the  usual  descriptions 
which  one  is  very  apt  to  skip.  They  are,  however,  too  long  to 
quote,  and  there  is  a  richness  and  exuberance  about  them  which 
may  not  suit  all  tastes.  We  may  give  one  of  his  reflections  after 
a  description  of  Castellamare  : 

The  world  is  ^^ide,  wide,  wide  and  what  we  struggle  for,  ten  thousand  happy 
souls  in  one  fair  bay  have  never  dreamed  of.  I  would  give  much  to  live  and 
love  and  pass  my  life  within  the  sound  of  these  unvarying  waves  and  in  the 
gorgeous  interchange  of  light  and  gloom  which  dwells  for  ever  on  the  furrowed 
hills. 

Symonds  had  many  close  friends  ;  it  is,  therefore,  interesting 
to  hear  him  on  friendship: 

It  is  a  bad  thing  to  base  any  friendship  on  imcommon  and  merely  emotional 
sympathies.  They  may  wear  out.  Friendship  ought  to  be  a  matter  of  day- 
light not  of  gas,  red  lights  or  sky  rockets. 

Jowett,  of  Balliol,  stood  very  high  in  his  estimation  and  exer- 
cised a  very  sympathetic  yet  at  the  same  time  bracing  influence 
over  him.  Jowett's  laconic  style  and  absence  of  emotionalism 
acted  as  some  check  on  the  unrestrained  artistic  luxuriance  of 
his  friend.  We  get  many  characteristic  glimpses  of  the  future 
Master  of  Balliol  in  the  diary. 


410  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Breakfast  with  Jowett.  I  met  a  stupid  man  called  S.  S.  who  spoiled  every 
effort  at  conversation  by  insisting  on  talking  about  Miss  Eagle  and  ventrilo- 
quists. 

We  breakfast  at  nine.  I  was  glad  of  this  for  it  is  hard  to  entertain  Jowett. 
His  forte  is  aurext  taciturnitas  and  he  has  a  habit  of  shutting  up  a  subject  by  a 
single  sentence.  The  conversation  is  one  conducted  by  question  and  answer. 
I  start  a  subject  and  ask  a  question.  He  makes  an  answer  and  stifles  the 
subject. 

Jowett  and  I  went  to  Seed's  where  he  had  his  portrait  taken.  It  was  very 
good  of  him  to  let  it  be  done,  for  he  hated  it.  He  stood  so  funnily — like  a  doll 
straight  and  stiff.  The  man  tried  to  drill  him  into  a  position  :  he  was  meek 
but  awkward.  I  told  him  to  stand  naturally.  The  man  wanted  him  to  set 
his  necktie  straight — trying  to  destroy  personality  ;  but  I  would  not  let  him. 
It  took  a  long  time  and  Jowett  looked  cross  and  uncomfortable. 

One  of  the  reasons  why  he  makes  me  shy  beyond  his  own  silent  shyness  is 
that  he  is  so  uncommunicative  of  himself.  I  feel  that  he  is  self  wrapped  and 
that  he  wUl  not  lift  the  cm-tain.  He  lives  within  a  veil  and  is  aU  in  all  to  his 
own  thoughts.  Egotistical  people  are  easier  to  get  on  with  partly  because 
you  despise  their  egotism. 

After  taking  a  first  in  his  degree  at  Oxford,  Symonds  writes  : 

Certainly  Oxford  honours  are  a  poor  thing.  The  glory  of  them  soon  departs, 
the  pleasure  fleets  away  and  we  have  another  struggle  rising  up  at  once. 
Yet  I  can  never  be  too  thankful  for  having  been  able  to  give  papa  so  great 
satisfaction.  All  the  trouble  I  had  was  well  compensated  by  his  pleasure  and 
the  thought  of  that  is  my  most  solid  gain. 

The  diary,  as  time  goes  on,  gets  filled  with  his  artistic  studies. 
His  almost  over-developed  aesthetic  appreciations  make  him  pour 
out  the  most  elaborate  and  profound  analysis  of  what  he  sees 
and  hears.  So  extreme  is  it  that  references  to  "  a  strained  feeling 
in  my  head  "  come  as  no  surprise. 

He  uses  his  diary  as  a  sort  of  practice  ground  for  his  writing. 
After  an  immense  entry  on  the  EHzabethan  spirit  in  literature, 
he  ends : 

This  diatribe,  being  very  ill  this  morning,  I  wrote  to  distract  my  mind  from 
its  troubles,  to  rouse  me  from  a  clinging  lethargy  in  which  will,  memory, 
physical  force  and  power  of  thought  seemed  all  exhausted. 

In  the  biography  we  only  get  extracts  from  the  diary  in  the 
earlier  years.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  other  material  which  is 
drawn  on  for  his  later  life  up  to  his  death. 

In  this  period  Mr.  Browne  tells  us  that  speculation  and  analysis 
of  abstractions  become  less  prominent  and  "  his  artistic  sensuous 
temperament  found  satisfaction  in  actual  life." 

The  diary  has  no  doubt  been  invaluable  to  his  biographer, 


LIEUT.-GEN.   SIR  GERALD   GRAHAM  411 

and  we  can  quite  well  gather  what  kind  of  diary  Symonds  kept. 
But  we  are  not  allowed  to  see  sufficient  of  it  to  analyse  it  closely. 
A  man  who  keeps  a  regular  diary  and  writes  also  an  autobio- 
graphy may  be  condemned  as  an  egotist.  But  egotism  of  this 
sort  does  not  by  any  means  necessarily  imply  conceit.  If  it  is  a 
fault  it  is  a  fault  of  temperament,  not  of  intellect. 


LIEUT.-GENERAL   SIR    GERALD    GRAHAM 

THIS  distinguished  soldier,  who  was  born  in  1830,  saw  a 
good  deal  of  active  service  in  the  Crimea,  where  he  won 
the  Victoria  Cross,  and  subsequently  in  China  and  in 
Egypt.  He  kept  a  regular  business-like  military  diary,  which, 
though  practically  exclusively  concerned  with  his  military  ex- 
periences, shows  in  its  breezy,  laconic  style  that  its  author  had  a 
cheerful  disposition  and  a  sense  of  humour.  There  are  no  per- 
sonal or  subjective  references  in  it,  but  curiously  enough  he  often 
makes  notes  of  the  books  he  is  reading. 

I  am  reading  daily  a  little  of  Frederick  the  Great. 

What  a  wonderful  knowledge  of  character  is  shown  by  the  author  of  Adam 

Bede. 

Reading  Adam  Bede  again.  This  is  a  charming  book  ;  one  seems  to  live  in 
it  while  reading.  How  intensely  English — rural  English — in  its  character. 
Now  Miss  Bronte's  novels  are  somewhat  tinged  with  French  melodrama. 

I  am  deeply  interested  in  the  life  of  Charlotte  Bronte.  It  is  a  wonderful 
tale.     She  is  a  heroine  for  every  Englishman  to  be  proud  of. 

In  the  China  campaign  he  describes  being  wounded  : 

I  got  shot  in  my  leg  the  ball  burying  itself  in  the  flesh  without  cutting  the 
thick  serge  trousers  ; 

but  he  is  much  more  concerned  about  his  horse  being  wounded, 
and  continues  to  direct  his  men. 

Graham  was  a  friend  of  Gordon's,  having  been  his  contem- 
porary at  the  Military  Academy.  They  come  together  during 
the  China  campaign  in  1860. 

Charlie  Gordon  arrived.  .  .  .  He  is  still  brimful  of  energy  but  has  sobered 
down  into  a  more  reflective  character.     He  is  really  a  remarkably  fine  fellow. 

And  in  1884,  in  Egypt,  he  has  many  talks  with  him  and  accom- 
panies him  as  far  as  Assouan  on  his  way  to  Khartoum,     His 


412  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

conversations,  together  with  a  graphic  description  of  his  parting 
from  Gordon,  were  eventually  published  in  a  book  entitled  Last 
Words  with  Gordon. 

The  diary  extracts  only  cover  comparatively  brief  periods  in 
China  and  Egypt.  Once  or  twice  he  gives  rather  a  longer  account 
of  the  events  he  witnesses,  as,  for  instance,  the  signing  of  the 
treaty  at  the  end  of  the  China  campaign. 

But  for  the  most  part  the  entries  are  in  brief  sentences  obviously 
"written  at  the  moment  and  on  the  spot. 

Quaint  old  town — bad  smells — ^went  up  to  the  top  of  the  tower. 

Beastly  place  Masameh.  A  lot  of  dead  bodies  about.  Ordered  to  occupy 
Kassassin  so  I  moved  out  at  5  p.m. 

And  here  is  a  description  of  an  engagement : 

Beginning  to  arrange  my  kit  as  on  the  28th  when  the  Philistines  are  on  us  ! 
Are  they  mad  ?     In  five  minutes  my  dispositions  are  made  and  in  twenty 
minutes  the  troops  are  out  in  line  of  battle.     Heavy  artillery  fire  from  enemy 
as  before  but  our  guns  advance  with  the  Infantry  and  before  9  a.m.  the  enemy  j 
are  in  full  retreat.  .  .  .  Posting  pickets  in  evening.     Sent  telegram  to  dear  J.    ' 
[his  wife]  'AU  right.' 

The  diary  is  quoted  in  the  biography  written  by  Colonel  Vetch 
and  published  in  1901. 


WILLIAM   CORY 

BIOGRAPHERS  are  very  apt  to  discard  all  material  which 
does  not  enhance  the  reputation  of  their  subject,  more 
especially  if  they  are  writing  about  some  one  whose  friends 
and  relations  are  still  alive.  It  is  very  doubtful  whether  they 
succeed  by  this  means  in  attracting  the  human  sympathy  for 
and  appreciation  of  their  hero  or  heroine  in  the  same  way  as  if 
they  put  in  the  shadows  and  darker  parts  of  the  picture  and 
desisted  from  pedestal  making.  It  is  the  man  on  our  level  we 
like  reading  about  and  we  are  likely  to  love  the  best.  Abnor- 
mality and  excessive  righteousness  fill  us  with  awe  but  not 
with  affection. 

There  is  no  biography  of  William  Cory,  the  author  of  loniac. 
But  in  the  volume  published  by  his  friends  in  1897,  containing  his 
letters  and  extracts  from  his  journal,  he  is  presented  as  a  cultivated 
scholar-poet  with  refined  and  correct  tastes,  writing,  thinking,  say- 
ing all  the  right  things  in  the  right  way,  and  indiscretions,  lapses, 
faults,  triviahties  have  been  carefully  eliminated.     There  may 


WILLIAM   CORY  413 

have  been  good  reason  for  doing  this.  But  we  only  get  part  of 
the  man,  and  if  the  diary  extracts  convey  a  rather  self-complacent 
person  expressing  in  well-turned  phrases  unexceptionable  thoughts 
and  careful  judgments,  and  if  there  seems  to  be  a  noticeable 
absence  of  any  rash  and  clumsy  jottings  or  any  of  the  little  stupidi- 
ties which  rampage  through  the  pages  of  many  diaries,  we  must 
not  misjudge  Cory,  but  we  must  remember  that  only  part  of  his 
journal  is  given. 

William  Johnson  was  born  in  1823.  He  was  educated  at  Eton 
and  King's  College,  Cambridge,  and  served  as  assistant  master 
at  Eton  from  1845  to  1872.  During  this  period  a  number  of  boys 
who  afterwards  became  well-known  figures  in  public  life  came 
under  his  influence,  and  among  them  he  made  many  close  and 
devoted  friends.  He  had  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  brilhant 
Eton  tutor  of  his  day.  In  1872,  having  inherited  an  estate  at 
Halsdon,  he  resigned  his  mastership  and  assumed  the  name  of 
Cory. 

Judging  by  the  extracts,  we  should  say  that  Cory  was  a  pretty 
regular  diary  writer.  But  it  is  only  between  1863  and  1873  that 
sections  from  the  journal  are  given.  In  a  letter  to  his  brother 
(who  took  the  name  of  Furse  and  was  afterwards  archdeacon 
of  Westminster)  he  says  something  about  his  motive  in  keeping 
a  diary,  and  mentions  a  drawer  full  of  them  at  Eton. 

I  often  TVTite  at  considerable  length  leaving  out  all  sordid  and  vexatious 
things.  I  ■wish  I  had  ■written  more  at  school ;  as  it  is  there  are  records  of  a 
whole  fortnight  and  a  month  (last  May)  ■which  may  some  day  be  valued  as 
data  for  an  account  of  Eton  life.  In  another  ■way  I  sometimes  think  my 
Journals  •will  be  valuable  ;  they  ■will  contain  some  careful  studies  of  people 
whose  biographies  will  be  ■written,  if  not  published. 

We  see,  therefore,  that  he  was  writing  for  posterity,  and  if  he 
consistently  avoided  recording  "  sordid  and  vexatious  things  " 
we  might  find,  were  the  whole  of  his  diary  available,  that  it 
contained  no  intimate  personal  reflections.  Again,  he  says  that 
he  writes  journals  "  for  one  or  two  friends — ^very  garrulous  some- 
times." So  what  he  wrote  was  to  be  read  either  immediately 
or  later  on.  His  diary  was  not  a  private  affair,  and  indeed  this 
is  apparent  in  the  polish  of  the  writing,  the  self-conscious  expres- 
sions of  opinion  and  elaborate  descriptions  of  scenery. 

Staying  with  Lord  Halifax  at  Hickleton  (two  of  the  sons  were 
his  pupils),  he  writes  : 

Though  ill  a  bit,  I  am  revived  by  being  here  ;  it  makes  me  fancy  once  more 
that  I  am  near  the  heart  of  my  country  and  in  some  sense  ennobled.  I  think 
if  I  'write  a  letter  from  here  it  will  be  in  purer  English  and  more  courteous. 


414  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

This  indeed  seems  to  have  been  the  ideal  which  he  successfully 
pursued — ^to  write  in  pure  English  and  to  be  courteous.  Nothing 
ever  jars  or  is  harsh.  Even  when  he  goes  to  the  Athengeum  he 
reads  "softly." 

His  many  descriptions  of  scenery,  though  pretty  and  often 
poetical,  have  a  want  of  bite,  and  their  delicacy  sometimes  becomes 
a  little  flowery,  as,  for  instance  : 

We  walked  on  through  the  Abbey  Grounds  where  nothing  grows  but  a  few 
sprays  of  tamarisk,  a  Kttle  grass,  and  samphire  ;  we  sat  close  to  a  fallen 
signal  post  and  a  battered  figurehead  doiag  duty  for  ghost  and  watched  the 
blossoms  of  sea  weed  fluttering  and  alighting  on  the  little  patch  of  turf. 
Then  we  walked  on  the  steep  slope  of  down  to  the  little  water-fall  which 
ended  in  a  little  rill's  life  in  a  cleft  between  two  promontories  and  was  blown 
back  like  '  the  wasted  purpose  '  in  '  Lotos  Eaters  '  by  a  mighty  wind  from  the 
Atlantic. 

There  are  many  accounts  of  travel  in  Scotland  and  the 
Lakes  as  well  as  abroad  in  Austria,  Egypt,  and  Turkey. 
But  by  far  the  most  natural  and  spontaneous  entries  are  about 
his  school  work: 

1864.  I  looked  over  Dalmeny's  verses  ;  to  alter  them  was  a  long  delicate 
job  as  they  were  not  commonplace  pro  formd  things  but  an  honest  attempt  at 
turning  (of  his  own  accord)  some  rhymes  of  mine  which  he  had  read  in  manu- 
script. 

I  had  a  peculiar  pleasure — a  letter  from  the  father  of  a  boy  who  had  been  in 
my  division  thanking  me  for  making  his  boy's  work  pleasant  to  him  :  the 
most  gratifying  letter  I  ever  had  on  professional  matters. 

A  splendid  bit  of  Virgil — Evander's  lament  for  his  son — full  of  grammar, 
idiom  and  sentiment.  I  tried  the  patience  of  the  boys  with  wanton  digressions 
till  we  were  getting  late  for  school. 

My  young  boys  gathered  roimd  the  fire  ;  I  read  them  bits  of  Cowper,  a 
good  passage  about  the  wickedness  of  ambitiotis  kings.  .  .  .  Told  them  about 
Cowper  and  Huskisson  ;  they  filled  in  the  dropped  rhymes  and  were  intelligent. 
They  read  to  me  some  chapters  of  Nehemiah — the  bit  about  Ezra  telling  the 
people  not  to  weep  ;  and  then  St.  Paul's  parting  with  the  elders  of  Ephesus. 
...  I  was  sorry  when  they  went,  being  chilly  and  duU  ;    fell  asleep. 

Themes  or  rather  versions — ^lukewarm  Latin  anyhow.  Miscellaneous 
business  with  some  brats.     Shute  set  down  to  verses  by  himself. 

1867.  It  seems  a  pity  tutors  generally  let  Sunday  Private  Business  be  a 
thorough  bore  to  themselves  as  well  as  the  boys  ;  they  shirk  it  the  first  Sunday 
and  whenever  they  can.  The  boys  actually  hate  doing  Greek  Testament  on 
Sundays ;  how  can  it  make  them  religious  ? 

1868.  Expounding  Tacitus  and  Roman  history  to  three  dozen  beery, 
sleepy,  ignorant  lads.  .  .  .  forty  minutes  of  Pharaoh  in  the  sands,  drag, 
drag.  .  .  . 

To-day  I  had  three  stout  loud  emphatic  fierce  lectures  using  my  voice  as  a 
horee  drench  or  syringe. 


WILLIAM  CORY  415 

1869.  There  was  no  time  for  singing  before  Cliapel.  I  was  with  the  Fourth 
Form  an  hour. 

Athanasius  was  more  horrible  than  usual  and  Church  militant  and  Com- 
mandments more  odious.  At  11-20  we  were  off  to  the  Beeches  in  a  break. 
Ainger  and  Marindin  were  the  ushers  in  charge,  I  a  rover  only.  We  sang  a 
little  on  the  way,  iirst  driving,  then  walking  through  the  woodland.  We  raced 
about  the  deUs  and  had  to  shout  shrilly  to  get  together.  They  cut  sticks, 
climbed  trees,  picked  ferns,  combined  in  groups  and  broke  up  freely.  We  went 
through  Dropmore  with  unusual  vagabondary,  with  a  dull  gardener.  We 
dined  at  2-30  and  enjoyed  the  fire,  then  walked  up  the  bank  to  the  locks, 
explored  a  brewery,  looked  in  at  a  flour  mill,  ran  races.  We  drove  back  in  the 
dusk.  At  5-30  we  all  came  to  the  Mouse  Trap  [his  house]  and  hanselled  my 
German  tea  things  finishing  the  Greek  honey  which  Elliott  gave  me.  We  had 
songs  too.     This  perfect  party  broke  up  at  8-30. 

This  may  not  be  such  pure  English,  but  it  is  much  more  real, 
than  the  poetic  prose.  In  fact,  all  the  school  entries  when  he 
was  busy  and  probably  wrote  in  a  hurry  are  terse  and  vivid. 

There  are  some  good  political  anecdotes,  and  he  himself  makes 
a  si^eech  in  the  Windsor  theatre  at  an  election.  Many  literary 
judgments  and  criticisms  of  books  are  set  down,  and  accounts 
of  interesting  conversations. 

In  1878  he  writes  an  amusing  description  of  an  imaginary 
wife  : 

If  I  had  married  as  other  people  do,  by  this  time  my  wife  would  be  pursy, 
short  of  breath,  addicted  to  sal  volatile,  unable  to  sing,  begrimed  with  fru- 
gality, bent  on  making  me  write  letters  to  people  whose  sons  have  been  my 
pupils,  to  make  intei'est  for  her  nephews,  cousins  or  pet  clergy  :  fretting  at 
tny  want  of  progress  and  my  patient  submission  to  all  the  defeats  inflicted  on 
tne  by  younger  men,  feeling  with  cruel  pain  all  that  I  feel  with  a  mild  senti- 
mental twinge  and  worse  than  all  drenching  me  with  aphorisms  about  the 
Will  of  God  of  which  she  would  be  sure  to  think  she  knew  as  much  as  if  she 
lad  been  admitted  to  His  counsels. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Cory  did  marry  late  in  life,  at  the  age  of 
55.     He  died  in  1892. 

As  already  said  it  would  be  unfair  to  judge  the  diarist  by  the 
selected  and  abridged  sections  that  are  published  from  his  journal. 
We  get  very  little  impression  of  the  charming  man  he  is  known 
;o  have  been.  In  his  letters,  contained  in  the  same  volume,  the 
ictual  personal  touch  with  his  correspondents  brings  out  more 
iilly  and  naturally  some  of  his  rare  qualities. 


416  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

JAMES  HANNINGTON 


\ 


THE  last  diary  of  an  ecclesiastic  in  this  collection  differs 
from  any  of  its  predecessors.  Hannington  was  a  Bishop, 
but  a  very  different  type  from  Cartwright  or  Wilberforce. 
He  was  a  missionary,  but  in  no  way  does  he  resemble  the  ascetic 
scholar  Martyn.  Like  the  others,  however,  he  kept  a  regular 
diary  which  shows  him  to  have  been  a  man  of  action,  straightfor- 
ward, energetic,  addicted  to  no  morbid  inclinations  or  profound 
religious  meditations.  There  is  indeed  a  matter-of-fact  conven- 
tionality in  his  career  which  l^^  only  broken  by  the  tragic  adven- 
tures which  terminated  it.  In  the  early  entries,  which  begin 
about  1863,  his  love  of  action,  sport  and  travel  are  far  more 
noticeable  than  any  call  to  enter  holy  orders.  At  16  he  joins  the 
volunteers,  and  this  is  noted  as  a  red-letter  day  in  his  diary. 
"  My  first  day  in  uniform,"  and  later  in  the  same  year  : 

My  father  gave  me  a  single  barrel  breech  loader  gun ;    17  guineas.     My 
delight  is  great. 

My  seventeenth  birthday.     Shot  eighteen  brace  of  birds,  four  hares,  one 
land  rail,  5  feet  10  inches  high,  weight  11  stone  6  lbs. 

The  circumstances  which  led  to  his  going  into  the  Church  were 
exterior,  not  interior.  A  chapel  at  Hurstpierpoint  belonging  to 
his  father,  in  which  Nonconformist  services  were  held,  was  trans- 
ferred by  him  to  the  Church  of  England  and  licensed  for  public 
worship  by  the  Bishop  of  Chichester.  James  Hannington  notes 
therefore  : 

Through  the  change  from  dissent  to  the  Church  I  got  to  know  the  clergy  of 
the  parish  church  and  college.     I  yearned  for  ordination. 

Up  at  Oxford  at  St.  Mary's  Hall  he  has  difficulty  with  his 
examinations.  He  was  more  interested  in  rowing  than  learning, 
and  was  full  of  boyish  spirits: 

For  a  bet  I  wheeled  Captain  Way  up  the  High  Street  in  a  wheelbarrow  and 
turned  him  out  opposite  the  Angel  Hotel. 
Bumped  Keble — Should  have  caught  Exeter  but  No.  3  caught  a  crab  instead. 

Of  all  atrocious  horrors  this  is  the  most  disgusting.  We  have  been  re-bumped 
by  Keble. 

When  he  is  in  Devonshire  as  a  curate  the  entries  show  how  he  was 
always  to  the  fore  in  helping  and  doctoring  people,  and  whenever 
there  was  trouble,  danger,  or  adventure  to  be  undertaken  that 


JAMES  HANNINGTON  417 

was  what  he  hked  best.  "  I  enjoy  the  uphill  struggle  path  most 
of  all."  He  writes  very  simply,  without  the  smallest  symptom 
of  self-righteousness  or  pose.  A  very  characteristic  entry  is  the 
one  he  makes  the  day  before  his  ordination  at  Chichester  as  priest 
in  1876. 

A  day  of  rest.  I  nested  in  the  Bishop's  garden  and  round  the  belfry  Tower 
for  swifts'  eggs. 

In  1877  he  marries.  There  is  certainly  no  sentimentality  about 
the  following  ; 

Proposed  to  Blanche  Hawkin-Turvin  and  was  accepted. 

But  on  New  Year's  Day,  a  week  later,  he  indulges  in  a  little 
reflection,  which  is  quite  exceptional  with  him. 

The  New  Year  breaks  in  upon  me.  How  ?  How  ?  Under  a  new  epoch. 
I  am  engaged  to  be  married,  I,  who  have  always  been  supposed,  and  have 
supposed  myself  to  be  a  confirmed  bachelor,  cross,  crabbed,  ill  conditioned  ! 
What  a  change  in  the  appearance  of  everything  does  this  make  !  It,  however, 
seems  to  fill  me  with  the  things  of  this  world  and  to  make  me  cold  and  dead. 
Lord  Jesus  grant  that  we  may  love  Thee  each  succeeding  hour  more  abun- 
dantly.    Amen.     Amen. 

Mission  work  begins  to  interest  him,  and  finally  he  writes  : 

H.  G.  came  to  see  me  and  to  my  surprise  told  me  that  he  longed  to  become 
a  missionary.     I  told  him  that  I  longed  to  be  one  too. 

His  ambition  is  gratified.  He  is  appointed  by  the  Church 
Missionary  Societj^,  and  after  farewells  he  undertakes  his  first 
journey  to  Africa  in  1882.  From  this  time  onward  his  diary, 
which  is  kept  with  great  regularity,  is  that  of  a  traveller  and 
explorer  full  of  the  detail  of  his  adventures  and  illustrated  with 
drawings  and  sketches.  Owing  to  ill  health  he  was  obliged  to 
return  in  1883.  But  he  was  so  obviously  the  man  for  the  work 
that  on  his  return  he  was  consecrated  as  first  Bishop  of  Eastern 
Equatorial  Africa,  and  started  out  again  in  1884.  After  estab- 
lishing himself  at  Frere  Town  he  sets  out  on  a  journey  to  Uganda. 
No  obstacle  or  hardship  daunts  him.  His  own  health  he  is  deter- 
mined shall  stand  the  strain.  "  Fever  threatening  but  I  won't 
give  way."  He  determines,  after  weighing  the  pros  and  cons,  all 
of  which  considerations  are  noted  in  his  diary,  to  go  in  advance 
of  the  main  caravan  by  a  new  route  into  Uganda,  and  has  to 
pass  through  the  dangerous  territory  of  the  Masai.  He  and  his 
followers  are  captured  and  imprisoned.  After  eight  days,  during 
which  he  was  confin  ed,  racked  by  fever,  in  the  most  loathsome  dirt 
27 


418  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

and  discomfort,  he  was  led  out  to  an  open  space,  where  he  and 
the  rest  of  his  small  party  were  speared  and  shot  to  death. 

The  remarkable  thing,  so  far  as  his  diary  is  concerned,  is  that 
he  wrote  it,  though  often  sentence  by  sentence  and  with  the 
greatest  difficulty,  right  up  to  the  very  last  day  of  his  imprison- 
ment.    A  few  extracts  must  be  given  from  these  last  entries : 

Up  to  one  o'clock  I  have  received  no  news  whatever  and  I  fear  at  least  a 
week  in  this  black  hole  in  which  I  can  barely  see  to  write.  Floor  covered  with 
rotting  banana  peel  and  leaves  and  lice.  Men  relieving  nattire  at  night  on 
the  floor  ;  a  smoking  fire  at  which  my  guards  cook  and  drink  pombe  ;  in  a 
feverish  district ;  fearfvilly  shaken,  scarce  power  to  hold  up  a  small  Bible. 
Shall  I  live  through  it  ?     My.  God  I  am  Thine. 

Going  outside  I  fell  to  the  ground  exhausted  and  was  helped  back  in  a  gone 
condition  to  my  bed ;  I  don't  see  how  I  can  stand  all  this  and  yet  I  don't 
want  to  give  in.  .  .  . 

(Seventh  day's  prison.)  A  terrible  night,  first  with  noisy  dnmken  guard 
and  secondly  with  vermin  which  have  found  out  my  tent  and  swarm.  I 
don't  think  I  got  one  sovmd  hom-'s  sleep  and  woke  with  fever  fast  developing. 
O  Lord,  do  have  mercy  on  me  and  release  me.  I  am  quite  broken  down  and 
brought  low.     Comforted  by  reading  Psalm  XXVII. 

In  an  hour  or  two  fever  developed  very  rapidly.  My  tent  was  so  stuffy 
that  I  was  obliged  to  go  inside  the  filthy  hut  and  soon  was  delirious.  .  .  . 

(Eighth  day's  prison.)  I  can  hear  no  news  but  was  held  up  by  Psalm  XXX 
which  came  with  great  power. 

A  hyena  howled  near  me  last  night  smelling  a  sick  man  but  I  hope  it  is  not 
to  have  me  yet. 

These  entries  are  written  in  a  tiny  handwriting  in  one  of  Letts' 
monthly  pocket  diaries.  Difficult  as  it  must  have  been  to  write 
at  all,  we  can  imagine  that  he  must  have  derived  some  little  solace 
from  writing  down  his  terrible  experiences. 


CAPTAIN  EYRE  LLOYD 

FROM  November  12,  1899,  to  October  29,  1901— that  is  to 
say,  in  the  thick  of  the  Boer  War — Captain  Lloyd  kept  a 
regular  daily  diary.  This  in  itself  is  something  of  a  feat, 
as  an  officer  on  active  service  has  httle  or  no  leisure,  and  it  requires 
a  well-discipHned  mind  to  make  a  daily  memorandum. 

The  overshadowing  and  constant  danger  of  warfare  may  encour- 
age a  man  who  is  not  naturally  a  diarist  to  note  the  events  of 
each  day.  But  as  has  already  been  pointed  out,  events  in  these 
conditions  loom  too  large  and  the  mere  record  of  them  is  apt  to 
obUterate  the  personality  of  the  writer.     The  bare  recital  of 


CAPTAIN  EYRE   LLOYD  419 

movements  of  troops,  skirmishes,  casualties,  battles,  and  intervals 
of  waiting  without  the  relief  of  personal  reflections  is  dull  reading. 

Captain  Lloyd  is  a  typical  British  officer,  accepting  discomfort 
and  danger  without  complaint  and  even  without  comment,  and 
noting  as  carefully  the  results  of  a  football  match,  a  cricket 
match,  or  a  game  of  polo,  as  a  brush  with  the  enemy  or  even  a  big 
engagement. 

Here  is  an  instance  of  his  laconic  description  of  a  battle : 

Nov.  28.  Battle  of  Modder  River.  Called  up  early  paraded  4  a.m.  to 
6-30  p.m.  Personal  experience  in  note  book.  Another  frontal  attack. 
Boer  trenches  very  well  made.  2nd  Battalion  losses  12  killed  59  wounded. 
When  we  retired  the  bullets  came  like  a  hailstorm  and  I  cannot  understand 
how  any  of  us  escaped.  Acheson  was  hit  in  the  foot.  A.  and  S.  Highlanders 
lost  heavily  through  their  kilts  being  so  conspicuous.  Lost  1  killed  and  17 
wounded  in  my  company  including  Acheson  and  section  commanders.  A  man 
was  shot  on  each  side  of  me.  There  were  a  lot  of  verj^  narrow  escapes.  Tow- 
ney  Butler  had  a  bullet  through  his  trousers  between  his  legs,  two  cut  his 
water  bottle  and  another  his  helmet.  Colour  Sergeant  Pitt  had  his  havereack 
cut  ofi.  To-day's  frontal  attack  was  very  nearly  a  defeat.  The  next  prob- 
ably will  be.     We  have  won  these  battles  in  spite  of  it. 

The  next  day  he  is  delighted  at  having  a  bathe  and  his  entry 
ends  : 

There  is  a  hotel  here  so  I  have  been  able  to  buy  a  tooth  brush  at  last !  I 
lost  mine  a  week  ago. 

Quite  unperturbed  in  the  face  of  danger,  he  notes  at  a  later  date  : 

In  the  last  hour  of  dayhght  I  got  badly  sniped  by  a  Boer ;  why  I  was  not  hit 
I  caiuiot  imagine,  he  nearly  hit  me  every  time. 

We  get  just  a  glimpse  in  the  following  entry  of  the  kindness 
and  generosity  of  his  disposition  : 

Sergeant  was  read    out  on  parade  at    10  a.m.     Went  to   see  him 

after  parade  and  told  him  to  write  to  me  after  he  had  done  his  sentence  and 
promised  to  get  him  started  in  life  again  if  I  could. 

There  are  just  traces  of  his  impatience  when  he  says,  "  Seems 
now  as  if  the  war  will  last  for  ever  !  "  and  in  the  brief  entry  on 
October  27,  1900,  "  Sick  of  Pretoria."  Ceremonial  fooling  in 
the  midst  of  the  serious  business  of  war  calls  forth  from  him  the 
following  amusing  comment: 

We  are  to  have  a  ceremonial  parade  on  the  28tli  in  honour  of  the  King  of 
Portugal's  birthday.  I  don't  know  who  cares  about  the  King  of  Portugal  or 
who  was  the  ass  who  discovered  his  birthday. 

Once  or  twice  he  notes  the  beauty  of  scenery  and  sees  the  birds, 
amongst  them  "  the  lovely  light  blue  jay."  But  for  the  most 
part  his  entries  are  almost  officially  dry  and  colourless,  and  even 


420  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

the  disagreeable  duties  which  fell  to  him  are  executed  almost 
callously  without  any  sort  of  expression  of  feeUng.  He  allows 
himself  more  than  once  to  be  critical.  "  I  suppose  this  accounts 
for  this  wretched  farce,"  is  his  remark  at  some  bungling  on  the 
part  of  his  superior  officers."  And  again  :  "  After  fighting  for 
nearly  two  years  such  stupidity  is  almost  incredible  "  is  his  note 
on  a  proclamation  being  issued  in  English,  which  the  Boers  could 
not  understand. 

On  October  80,  1901,  Captain  Lloyd  was  sent  to  lay  out  the 
camp  previous  to  the  attack  of  the  Boers,  but  hearing  that  his 
Colonel  was  wounded  and  in  a  tight  place  he  felt  it  to  be  his  duty 
to  leave  a  comparatively  unimportant  task  and  to  put  himself 
at  the  disposal  of  his  chief.  One  account  says  :  "  He  sauntered 
defiantly  and  quite  upright  across  the  open  space  shot  at  by  half 
a  thousand  rifles  at  not  more  than  30  or  40  yards  range."  He 
fell  before  he  reached  his  chief. 

The  diary  is  in  no  way  remarkable,  but  it  is  thoroughly  typical. 
It  was  privately  printed,  together  with  some  of  his  letters,  in  1905. 

The  following  Diaries  in  this  century  may  also  he  briefly  noted : — 

Miss  Berry 

Mention  may  be  made  of  the  diary  kept  by  Miss  Mary  Berry 
between  1783  and  1848.  She  wrote  at  first  a  diary  of  her  travels 
of  the  ordinary  guide  book  description.  In  1807,  after  seeing  some 
one  else's  journal,  she  decides  to  keep  a  regular  diary  of  her  own : 

I  have  hitherto  avoided  it  because  I  felt  ashamed  of  the  use  or  rather  the 
no  use  I  made  of  my  time.  .  .  .  But  now  no  future  reraains  to  me  [she  was 
44  and  lived  to  89]  perhaps  I  may  be  encouraged  to  make  the  most  of  the 
present  by  marking  its  rapid  passage  and  setting  before  my  eyes  the  folly 
of  letting  a  day  escape  without  endeavouring  at  least  to  make  the  best  I 
can  of  it  and  above  all  without  making  impossible  attempts  to  mend  or  alter 
anybody  but  myself. 

Miss  Berry  had  been  in  her  youth  a  friend  of  Horace  Walpole's, 
whose  works  she  afterwards  edited.  She  lived  with  her  sister  Agnes 
at  Little  Strawberry  Hill,  which  had  been  left  to  them  by  Walpole. 
The  diary  is  nothing  but  a  social  record  containing  all  the  usual 
elements.  Royalty  of  course  comes  in.  We  have  the  Regent  who 
"  looked  wretchedly,  swollen  up  with  a  muddled  complexion  and  was 
besides  extremely  tipsy — gravely  and  cautiously  so."  In  1802  she 
gives  a  very  full  and  not  iminteresting  description  of  Buonaparte  as 
First  Consul.  Her  reflections  she  reserves  for  another  book,  but 
occasionally  she  indulges  in  meditations  which  become  more  melan- 
choly in  her  old  age.  Once  or  twice  she  manages  to  get  away  from 
the  social  visits  and  entertainments  and  write  about  her  garden. 


JOSEPH  HUNTER— MARQUIS  OF  HASTINGS       421 

But  like  so  many  diarists,  she  did  not  think  the  quiet  days  were 
worth  recording. 

In  1845,  at  the  age  of  82,  at  the  end  of  a  sad  entry  beginning  "  Life 
begins  to  be  very  fatiguing  to  me,"  she  ends  up  : 

My  poor  sister  so  near  my  own  age  will  I  feel  convinced  either  precede 
or  follow  me  in  a  very  few  months. 

This  Hterally  happened  seven  years  later  in  1852,  when  the  lifelong 
companionship  of  the  sisters  was  only  broken  for  a  few  months. 
Agnes  died  in  January  ;   and  Mary  in  November. 

Joseph  Hunter 

We  have  here  an  instance  of  a  man  who  in  his  youth  intended  to 
keep  a  diary,  but  evidently  found  that  the  increasing  range  of  his 
studies  made  him  regard  diary  writing  as  waste  of  time. 

Joseph  Hunter,  born  in  1783,  was  an  eminent  antiquary  and 
voluminous  writer  on  history  and  archaeology.  In  1806,  at  the  age 
of  23,  he  begins  on  January  2  to  keep  a  diary.  He  notes  the  lectures 
he  attends,  the  people  with  whom  he  has  conversations  and  to  whom 
he  writes  letters,  sermons  he  hears,  the  establishment  of  "  a  society 
of  literary  conversation  "  where  they  have  a  debate  on  a  universal 
language  ;  an  attack  of  a  severe  cold  ("  believe  t'is  epedemic  and 
what  is  called  influenza  "),  a  tea-party  where  the  conversation  is 
"  merest  chit  chat  and  scandal,"  etc.  It  would  almost  seem  as  if 
he  were  settling  down  to  be  a  diarist  when  he  begins  describing 
people  ;  for  instance,  George  Dyer,  "  a  strange  quizz,  such  a  rough 
head  of  hair  never  was  seen,  but  an  entertaining  fellow,  takes  snuff  to 
wean  himself  from  smoking."  But  after  recording  the  immense  lists 
of  books  he  is  reading  he  breaks  into  a  sort  of  shorthand  just  to  give 
the  division  of  the  day,  every  horn*  of  which  is  occupied  in  the  study 
of  Greek,  Hebrew,  mathematics,  etc.,  and  on  September  20  he  leaves 
off  for  good. 

The  MS.  of  the  diary  is  among  the  large  collection  of  his  papers  in 
the  British  Museum. 

The  Marquis  of  Hastings 

Lord  Hastings  was  Governor- General  and  Commander-in-Chief  in 
India.  He  kept  a  regular  diary  from  September,  1813,  to  December, 
1818.  His  term  of  office  continued  to  January,  1823,  but  his  official 
duties  became  too  heavy  for  him  to  find  time  to  keep  up  diary  writing. 
The  diary  is  occupied  only  with  descriptions  of  travel,  hunting  expedi- 
tions and  incidents  connected  with  his  official  life  in  India.  It  is 
included  because,  unlike  most  diarists,  Lord  Hastings  discloses  very 
clearly  in  the  dedication  his  motive  in  writing.     He  says  : 

This  Journal  is  undertaken  for  the  sake  of  the  Dear  Little  Companions 
of  my  Expedition.  It  will  be  both  gratifying  and  useful  to  them  in  a  future 
day  to  have  their  recollection  of  circumstances  revived  and  to  have  many 
matters  explained  which  they  will  be  likely  to  have  comprehended  but  imper- 


422  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

f ectly.     At  any  rate  it  will  convince  them  of  the  solicitude  felt  for  them  by  a 
fond  Father. 

The  diary  was  published  in  1858,  edited  by  Lady  Bute,  one  of  his 
daughters. 

Thomas  Grey 

In  a  little  leather-bound,  gilt-edged  book,  called  Marshall's  Com- 
mercial Pocket  Book  for  1826,  with  a  print  of  Liverpool  Town  Hall 
as  a  frontispiece,  Thomas  Grey  began  to  keep  a  diary  :  January  1  : 
"  Very  rainy  and  cold  day  did  not  go  out  at  all."  January  2  : 
"  Staid  in  the  house  all  day,  went  to  the  play  in  the  evening  which 
was  very  stupid,"  and  so  it  goes  on  "  went  to  Church,"  "  went  a 
shooting,"  "  went  to  a  lecture,"  etc.,  up  to  January  22.  On  March  22 
he  makes  another  attempt  :  "  went  a  hunting,"  "  went  a  fishing," 
"  had  a  headache,"  etc.  But  this  lasted  only  eleven  days.  There 
is  one  entry  in  May  recording  his  sister's  marriage  ;  and  then  no 
more.  In  this  very  incomplete  record  we  might  gather  from  the 
handwriting  and  language  that  Thomas  Grey  was  young,  that 
brothers  and  sisters  were  with  him,  and  that  he  sometimes  had 
headaches.  Had  his  parents  been  obscure  people  we  should  know 
nothing  more  and  suspect  that  he  belonged  to  the  large  class  of 
diarists  who  begin  but  cannot  keep  up  the  habit.  Thomas,  how- 
ever, was  one  of  the  younger  sons  of  Lord  Grey,  the  Prime  Minister, 
and  died  at  the  age  of  sixteen  in  the  very  year  of  the  diary  ;  hence 
the  blank  pages.  The  sister  whose  marriage  he  records  treasured  the 
little  book,  which  has  been  handed  down  in  her  family.  It  is  only 
a  small  broken  fragment,  preserved  out  of  sentiment.  The  memory 
of  the  boy  has  vanished,  but  as  a  budding  diarist  his  attempt  survives. 

Sir  Mountstuart  Grant-Duff 

With  the  exception  of  the  first  two  volumes,  which  concern  travels 
in  India  and  Palestine,  the  fourteen  volumes  of  diary  (1851  to  1901) 
issued  by  Sir  Mountstuart  Grant  Duff  (who  was  a  Member  of  Parlia- 
ment and  sometime  Governor  of  Madras)  hardly  come  under  the 
category  of  a  personal  diary  any  more  than  Miss  Wynn's  Diaries  of  a 
Lady  of  Quality.  Indeed,  he  says  himself  that  his  object  is  to  make 
it  "  the  hghtest  of  light  reading,"  to  dwell  on  the  less  serious  side  of 
life  and  to  avoid  writing  of  his  chief  interests,  which  were  politics 
and  administration.  The  volumes  consist  for  the  most  part  of  a  vast 
collection  of  anecdotes,  good  stories  and  memorable  sayings,  many  of 
which  have  appeared  elsewhere.  That  he  succeeded  in  making  the 
books  "  light  reading  "  we  may  venture  to  doubt.  To  flutter  a  page 
or  two  occasionally  may  help  to  pass  the  time,  but  to  read  consecu- 
tively anecdote  after  anecdote,  epigram  after  epigram,  joke  after 
joke,  however  good  some  of  them  may  be,  is  practically  impossible. 
There  are  dinner  party  lists  and  occasional  references  to  books,  a  few 
appreciations  of  scenery  and  gardens,  but  he  strictly  adheres  to  his 


JOHN  EVELYN  DENISON  423 

intention  of  introducing  nothing  in  the  way  of  personal  opinions, 
private  reflections  or  serious  matter. 

Quotation,  therefore,  is  unnecessary.  Apart  from  anecdotes  it  is 
hardly  worth  while  making  extracts  from  the  other  passages — as,  for 
instance,  a  discussion  as  to  whether  you  should  write  Marquis  or 
Marquess — or  the  literary  judgment  that  Anatole  France  "  contains 
a  great  deal  of  interesting  matter  but  little  that  fixes  itself  in  the 
memory."  No  doubt  there  is  a  considerable  public  for  collections  of 
anecdotes,  but  such  books  are  hardly  subjects  for  analysis  as  personal 
diaries. 

John  Evelyn  Denison  (Viscount  Ossington) 

From  1857  to  1872  Denison  was  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
Dmring  this  period  he  kept  a  sort  of  official  diary,  noting  carefully  his 
rulings  and  the  questions  and  points  of  order  that  came  u^  for  his 
decision.  As  a  record  of  House  of  Commons  procedure  and  a  guide 
to  the  difficult  problems  by  which  a  Speaker  may  at  any  moment  be 
confronted  it  is  a  valuable  book,  and  shows  the  scrupulous  punctilious- 
ness of  its  author.  It  is  not,  however,  a  personal  diary.  Except  for 
a  reference  to  an  accident  which  prevents  him  from  attending  to  his 
duties,  and  an  accoimt  of  a  rapid  excxirsion  he  took  to  WoUaton  Park 
near  Nottingham,  there  is  practically  no  personal  matter  in  it  at  all. 

On  taking  up  his  office,  he  asked  his  predecessor,  Lord  Eversley, 
on  whom  he  might  rely  for  advice,  and  he  was  told  he  must  rely 
entirely  on  himself.     He  adds  : 

And  I  found  this  to  be  very  true.  Sometimes  a  friend  would  hasten  to 
the  Chair  and  offer  advice.  I  must  say  it  was  for  the  most  part  lucky  that 
I  did  not  follow  the  advice. 

He  does  not  describe  or  criticize  members,  or  ministers  except  Lord 
Palmerston,  for  whom  he  had  evidently  a  great  admiration. 

Lord  Palmerston  has  spoken  admirably  well  this  session.  It  is  not  that 
the  House  respects  a  public  servant  who  has  done  great  service  ;  that  they 
are  indulgent  to  advanced  years.  It  is  that  he  can  still  make  a  better  and 
more  effective  speech  than  any  other  man. 

Denison  seems  to  have  taken  pains  to  exercise  judicial  fairness, 
but  he  knows  how  to  snub  members,  as  when  he  tells  one  of  them  that 
his  speech 

was  in  every  way  unbecoming:  that  nothing  could  be  more  vmdignified 
than  for  a  member  to  come  to  the  House  whining  and  complaining  that  he 
had  not  had  a  ticket  given  him  for  the  review. 

The  careful  way  in  which  these  notes  were  kept  makes  one  suspect 
that  Denison  also  kept  a  private  diary.  When  he  retired  from  the 
Speakership  he  refused  any  pension.     He  died  in  1873. 

The  diary  was  first  printed  for  private  circulation,  but  afterward 
published  in  1900, 


TWENTIETH    CENTURY 


LORD  BERNARD  GORDON-LENNOX 

EXCEPT  for  Barbellion's  diary,  there  would  have  been 
no  diaries  to  refer  to  in  the  early  twentieth  century,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  war.  A  fairly  large  percentage  of 
officers  kept  some  sort  of  record,  and  many  of  the  diaries  of 
fallen  officers  no  doubt  exist,  treasured  by  their  families.  Not 
many  of  them,  perhaps,  will  ever  appear  in  print.  For  the  most 
part  they  are  probably  very  brief  single-line  notes  in  a  pocket 
diary,  of  no  particular  value  even  to  the  mihtary  historian. 
The  circumstances  of  modern  warfare  are  not  conducive  to  elabor- 
ate diary  writing,  and  warfare  and  army  life  are  hostile  to  origin- 
ality or  even  the  emergence  of  individuality.  Moreover,  we  must 
repeat  once  more  that  when  the  subject  of  a  diary  reaches 
such  tremendous  and  sensational  dimensions  the  soldier  diarists' 
notes  appear  meagre  and  inadequate  to  those  who  can  only 
observe  the  large  lines  and  general  trend  of  events  after  the 
conclusion  of  the  whole  business. 

No  doubt  a  careful  scrutiny  of  even  the  briefest  notes  would 
disclose  characteristic  features — sometimes  a  freedom  of  language 
or  a  violence  of  expression,  but  rarely  anjrthing  personal.  If  an 
officer  wants  to  record  something  beyond  the  actual  military 
movements,  he  may  mention  where  he  had  a  bath.  But  the  events 
are  too  overwhelmingly  important  at  the  moment,  the  great 
dangers,  though  seldom  referred  to  as  dangers,  too  constant  to 
allow  for  the  run  of  a  flowing  pen.  In  years  to  come  some  notable 
diaries  may  possibly  appear  as  results  of  the  war,  but  we  are  only 
concerned  here  with  those  of  fallen  officers.  Even  in  the  sketchy 
ones  an  abrupt  finish  has  something  intensely  dramatic  about  it. 
Here  are  the  last  three  entries  from  the  small  pocket  diary  of  an 
officer : 

Sept.    14.     Forward.     Big  scrap.     4  Company   Officers  wounded,  many 
others.     Entrenched  W  of  farm  N  of  river  and  lay  out  all  night. 

m 


LORD  BERNARD  GORDON-LENNOX     425 

[He  was  wounded  in  the  shoulder  but  carried  on.  He  does  not  think  this 
worth  mentioning.] 

1914,  Sep.  15.  We  were  shelled  all  morning,  miserable  wet  night.  S.D. 
and  M.  all  safe,  night  alarm. 

Sep.  16.  S.  took  over  bridge.  Blaze.  [He  was  killed  by  a  bullet  in  the 
head  on  the  evening  of  this  day.] 

No  doubt  a  conscientious  search  might  produce  a  number  of 
diaries  of  this  sort,  but  there  would  not  be  sufficient  variety  about 
them  to  justify  their  being  singled  out  for  special  attention. 

For  our  purpose  here  we  have  selected  a  diary  which  is  remark- 
able for  its  fullness  and  regularity.  There  are  signs  of  its  having 
been  written  up  probably  from  notes  scribbled  on  the  day,  and  it 
presents  as  consecutive  a  story  and  as  detailed  an  account  of  the 
retreat  from  Mons  as  could  be  furnished  by  an  officer  who  was 
actually  participating  in  it.^ 

Lord  Bernard  Gordon-Lennox,  3rd  son  of  the  Duke  of  Richmond, 
was  a  Major  in  the  2nd  Battalion  Grenadier  Guards.  He  went 
out  with  the  Expeditionary  Force  on  August  12, 1914,  and  marched 
with  his  battalion  from  Havre  to  the  Belgian  frontier,  took 
part  in  the  famous  retreat,  and  after  practically  incessant  fighting 
from  October  21  to  November  16  he  was  killed  on  November 
17  of  the  same  year  during  a  German  attack  upon  Ypres. 

The  diary  begins  on  August  12  with  the  departure  from 
Southampton  and  arrival  at  Havre.  All  was  enthusiasm  ;  the 
crews  of  the  French  boats  in  port  cheered  them. 

We  responded  by  singing  the  MarseiUaise  which  caused  a  continual  "  'eep, 
eep,  'ooray  "  in  return. 

On  arrival  at  Arras  about  3-30  a  large  crowd  of  people  assembled  around 
the  door  of  the  carriage  in  which  N.D.  and  self  were  sitting  and  the  former 
was  presented  with  three  enormous  bouquets,  the  biggest  I  have  ever  seen, 
by  the  Mayor  and  Mayoress  and  the  Prefect  and  the  Town  Councillors.  It 
was  most  amusing.  N.  came  up  to  the  scratch  well  and  in  a  few  well  chosen 
and  felicitous  phrases  tendered  the  thanks  of  the  Officers  and  the  Army  in 
general.  As  we  were  all  more  or  less  in  a  state  of  deshabille  it  must  have  been 
a  funny  sight. 

He  writes  daily  at  considerable  length,  giving  full  particulars  of 
all  the  military  operations  ;  the  personal  element  hardly  enters 
into  his  record  at  all.  Privation  and  discomfort  are  accepted  at 
once  as  the  ordinary  routine,  and  the  continual  presence  of  extreme 
danger  is  noted  in  the  same  terms  as  the  changes  in  the  weather. 

1  Quotations  from  this  diary  are  published  by  kind  permission  of  the  Duke 
of  Richmond  and  Gordon. 


426  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Gordon-Lennox  was  an  officer  of  some  years'  standing.  He 
had  served  in  the  South  African  War.  His  tone,  therefore,  is 
that  of  one  more  or  less  in  authority,  who  would  not  think  it 
correct  to  indulge  in  the  complaints  and  protests  wliich  might 
have  proceeded  from  a  younger  officer.  He  does,  however, 
complain  of  the  unnecessary  secrecy. 

Owing  to  the  absolute  secrecy  which  pervaded  everything  no  one  knew  what 
was  going  on  anjrwhere  :  this  has  been  maintained  up  to  date  and  is  most 
disheartening.  No  one  knows  what  one  is  driving  at,  where  anyone  is,  what 
we  have  got  against  us,  or  anything  at  all ;  and  what  is  told  us  generally 
turns  out  to  be  entirely  wrong. 

On  August  24,  the  day  on  which  the  retirement  began,  his 
entry  shows  that  he  must  have  written  in  very  much  later  the 
following  passage  : 

This  began  our  long  and  tiring  retirement  beginning  at  Mons  and  finishing 
near  Paris  and  I  don't  think  any  of  us  wish  to  go  through  such  a  tr5dng  time 
again.     Also  the  British  Army  is  not  accustomed  to  retiring. 

He  always  refers  to  the  Germans  as  "  the  Dutchmen."  He 
wastes  little  time  in  making  disparaging  remarks  about  the  enemy, 
except  to  note  on  one  or  two  occasions  that  their  wounded  "  howl  " 
a  good  deal.     There  is  this  entry  about  prisoners  : 

We  picked  up  a  lot  of  Dutchmen  on  the  way,  killing,  wounding,  and  captur- 
ing them  at  intervals.  They  were  eventually  given  into  my  charge  as  head 
of  Main  Guard  and  seemed  quite  pleased  to  have  a  quiet  time.  Apparently 
they  thought  we  shot  all  our  prisoners. 

There  is  of  course  hardly  much  chance  for  humour  in  the 
circumstances  of  modern  warfare,  and  Gordon-Lennox  was  not 
out  for  collecting  jokes.  But  now  and  again  there  is  a  little 
reUef,  such  as  the  following  : 

Going  through  Charly  we  saw  chalked  up  in  big  letters  on  a  door  "Tango 
tanze  in  PARIS     Sept.  13."  and  imderneath  it  "  Yes.     I  don't  think." 

A  far  more  gifted  pen  that  Gordon-Lennox's  would  find  it 
just  as  impossible  as  he  does  to  convey  any  real  impression  of 
the  scenes  of  devastation  and  destruction  or  the  catastrophic 
incidents  through  which  he  continually  passes.  Here  is  his 
description  of  a  shell  from  a  howitzer — ^Black  Maria — when  he 
himself  has  a  narrow  escape. 

They  had  hardly  been  there  a  J  of  an  hour  before  a  big  8"  came  along  missed 
the  farm  by  inches  and  got  the  top  of  the  quarry  bank  a  dreadful  blow.  I 
had  103  lined  up  and  after  the  explosion  44  were  left  aU  the  remainder  being 


i 


LORD  BERNARD  GORDON-LENNOX      427 

killed  or  wounded.  In  addition  this  shell  killed  three  officers  of  the  Oxfords 
and  a  medical  officer.  How  it  missed  J—,  P— ,  P— ,  and  self  will  for  ever  remain 
a  mystery.  It  killed  and  wounded  people  who  were  more  under  cover  than 
we  were  sitting  all  together.  It  killed  and  wounded  people  to  oiu"  rear, 
right,  front,  left  but  for  some  unknown  reason  we  all  escaped  untouched. 
The  trees  on  the  bank  fell  down  and  the  whole  quarry  was  filled  with  dense 
black  yellow  smoke.    It  was  truly  a  disastrous  shot. 

A  few  days  after  he  has  another  narrow  escape  : 

I  had  just  taken  my  overcoat  off  and  laid  it  on  the  back  of  the  trench  about 
a  yard  away  when  there  was  a  tremendous  explosion  just  above  me.  The  man 
in  the  pit  next  door  was  badly  hit  by  a  shell.  My  coat  had  the  right  arm 
nearly  taken  off  at  the  shoulder  and  the  left  sleeve  cut  to  bits  and  it  was 
only  a  yard  o2  me,  but  I  am  thankful  to  say  I  was  not  inside  the  coat  at  the 
time. 

The  complete  absence  on  these  occasions  not  only  of  invoca- 
tions to  the  Almighty  but  of  even  the  mildest  comment  on  his 
escapes,    is   particularly   characteristic   of  the   British   officer. 

There  are  better  moments  in  which  he  shows  his  naturally 
cheerful  disposition.  Of  his  dug-out  he  writes  on  September 
23  :  "  Our  bug  hutch  in  the  trench  is  the  envy  of  everyone  who 
pays  it  a  visit  "  ;  and  on  a  quieter  day  the  only  casualties  are 
"  three  nice  sheep,"  which  "  were  borne  home  next  morning 
triumphant  on  the  cooker  "  and  he  has  kidneys  for  breakfast. 
Later  again  fifty  shells  fall  round  them  on  one  day,  until  "  the 
field  behind  us  was  hke  a  Gruyere  cheese."  The  shelling  becomes 
so  incessant  and  continuous  that  he  begins  to  write  about  it  in  an 
almost  jocular  vein.  Even  his  "  rest  day  "  is  disturbed.  "  No 
harm  but  beastly  noise  and  disturbed  my  afternoon  sleep  so  had 
a  nice  bath  instead."  On  one  occasion  in  October  he  is  relieved 
by  a  French  officer  accompanied  by  a  very  inadequate  number 
of  men. 

The  officer  was  very  funny  and  whenever  I  showed  him  my  posts  etc.  he 
said  "  Oh,  La  La  :   je  n'ai  pas  les  hommes." 

Day  by  day  it  is  an  unrelieved  record  of  incessant  fighting, 
with  all  the  attendant  misery  and  suffering.  It  is  related  well  with 
typical  British  reticence,  but  with  more  than  usual  detail.  A 
vivid  imagination  would  be  a  severe  handicap  to  any  soldier  in 
such  circumstances. 

The  constant  loss  of  his  best  friends  he  notes  with  just  a  passing 
word,  which  of  course  is  not  meant  to  convey  his  feelings.  Once 
he  says  rather  more,  and  this  is  in  the  last  lines  of  what  turned 
out  to  be  his  last  entry. 


428  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

We  heard  to-day  of  poor  M's  death — a  dreadful  loss  and  think  of  poor  J. 
I  suppose  one  gets  invu-ed  to  seeing  all  one's  best  friends  taken  away  from  one 
and  can  only  think  one  is  lucky  enough  to  be  here  oneself — for  the  present. 

Not  many  days  later  he  had  joined  his  friends. 


ARTHUR  GRAEME  WEST  ^ 

OF  the  soldiers'  diaries  included  in  this  volume  West's 
is  the  most  modern  and  certainly  the  least  typical.  But 
it  must  be  remembered  that  the  Great  War  was  fought 
by  many  more  civilians  than  soldiers.  West  was  not  a  soldier 
when  war  broke  out,  and  had  he  survived  he  certainly  would  not 
have  remained  one.  Among  the  mass  of  diaries  which  will  be  found 
in  years  to  come  to  have  been  produced  by  the  war  it  is  not  improb- 
able that  others  of  this  character  will  be  discovered.  That  is  to 
say,  a  good  many  young  men  of  reflective  temperament,  neither 
trained  for  nor  suited  to  military  life,  were  plunged  into  the 
vortex,  and  it  is  likely  that  some  of  them  kept  notes  of  their 
experiences  which  go  a  good  deal  beyond  the  bald  mihtary  record. 
The  published  extracts  from  West's  diary  kept  between  March, 
1915,  and  November,  1916,  give  us  a  clear  insight  into  the  character 
and  disposition  of  the  author.  Not  only  does  he  display  absolute 
frankness  in  committing  his  thoughts  to  paper,  but  having  a 
literary  gift  and  a  cultivated  mind  he  is  able  to  describe  his  sur- 
roundings and  the  incidents  of  modern  warfare  in  a  way  which 
brings  the  atmosphere  of  training  camp  and  trench  before  the 
reader  with  photographic  sharpness.  The  great  interest  of  the 
diary  rests  in  the  doubts  and  misgivings  to  which  he  became  a 
prey  in  the  course  of  his  military  service.  He  failed  to  get  a 
commission  owing  to  his  defective  eyesight,  and  in  a  rush  of 
enthusiasm  he  enlisted  from  Oxford  as  a  private  in  the  Public 
Schools  Battalion  soon  after  the  outbreak  of  war.     In  November, 

1915,  he  went  to  the  front.  After  four  months  he  was  sent  to 
Scotland,  where  he  was  trained  as  an  officer.     In  September, 

1916,  he  went  to  France  with  a  commission,  and  remained 
there  till  he  was  killed  in  April,  1917.  He  never  became  part 
of  the  machine.  He  retained  throughout  the  detached  point  of 
view  of  an  observer.     Every  line  he  writes  is  full  of  suggestion 

1  The  Diary  extracts  are  quoted  from  The  Diary  of  a  Dead  Officer,  by  kind 
consent  of  Miss  Dorothy  Cousens  and  Messrs.  George  Allen  &  Unwin. 


ARTHUR  GRAEME  WEST  429 

and  meaning,  even  when  he  is  only  recording  the  daily  routine. 

To  detach  quotations  is  not  easy,  because  what  we  are  given 
of  the  diary  is  all  worth  reading.  He  describes  things  fully  and 
develops  his  arguments  carefully.  Extracts  tear  the  composi- 
tion and  break  the  sequence. 

We  will  take  first  the  more  objective  entries. 

In  the  trenches  in  December,  1915 : 

The  trenches  were  wet  but  boarded  at  the  bottom  so  one  did  not  walk  in 
more  than  three  or  four  inches  of  water.  Our  platoon  was  to  go  to  the  front 
line  trenches  which  were  not  trenches  at  all  but  broken  bits  of  trench  ,  .  .  we 
five  were  together  in  post  No.  G,  at  the  extreme  left  end  of  the  line.  It 
was  a  very  bad  place  ;  about  ten  or  fifteen  yards  of  sandbags  were  standing 
but  the  tops  had  been  knocked  off  and  the  things  were  low.  There  was  no 
back  to  the  trench  at  all  and  the  water  was  deep  ;  we  had  nothing  to  keep  it 
off  us  but  a  few  sticks  laid  across  ...  at  fu'st  we  were  quite  amused  and 
laughed  at  our  position  but  soon  the  damp  and  cold  and  the  prospect  of  twenty 
foiu-  hours'  endurance  of  it,  our  isolation  and  exposure  cooled  us  down  and 
we  sat  still  and  dripped  and  shivered.  Flares  went  up  continually  and  occa- 
sional machine  gun  bullets  whizzed  over  us  and  snipers  shot. 

The  training  in  Scotland  is  amusingly  described  with  passages 
from  the  speeches  of  the  company  sergeant-major.  The  senseless 
and  futile  restrictions  and  regulations  and  the  manifest  incom- 
petence of  the  superior  officers  exasperate  him  and  his  friends, 
but  he  remarks  : 

Depression  is  merely  a  passing  mood  with  most  of  the  men  and  comes  rarely 
even  so.  The  men  with  me  felt  indignant  when  told  to  go  on  a  parade  they 
did  not  like  and  for  a  moment  after  coming  off  it  retained  their  resentment, 
but  it  soon  passed  off  and  depression  of  spirits  from  general  greyness  of  outlook 
as  an  enduring  attitude  was  unknown  to  them.  The  prospect  of  four  days' 
leave  made  them  all  delirious  ;  so  did  week  ends  or  even  the  Wednesday  half 
holiday.  In  the  evening  when  work  was  done  the  gramophone,  golf,  girls,  a 
mieal  at  a  hotel,  a  magazine  story,  a  piano  made  them  forget  that  they  had 
ever  had  a  complaint  in  the  world  or  that  to-morrow  would  begin  as  usual 
with  an  Adjutants'  parade  at  5-30. 

Their  contempt  for  their  instructors  knew  no  bounds  : 

One  noted  first  their  utter  inability  to  teach  us  anything  because  there  were 
too  many  superannuated  old  martinets  trying  to  do  it  at  the  same  time ; 
secondly  the  lack  of  doctrine  among  them  all ;  even  if  they  could  have  taught 
they  knew  nothing.     The  way  we  were  taught  musketry  was  laughable. 

This  on  food  : 

Alteration  in  meals.  The  food  both  degenerates  and  diminishes  ;  meat 
baked  to  a  dry  cinder  and  not  enough  of  it  comes  on  at  lunch  ;  pudding  of 
any  sort  seems  to  be  knocked  off  entirely  :  cheese,  jam  etc  are  not  provided  at 
all  as  they  used  to  be. 


480  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

Here  is  a  specimen  of  drill : 

This  morning  we  had  saluting  drill  for  half  an  hour.  It  was  the  most 
pitiably  comic  parade  I  have  ever  seen,  even  here.  First  we  were  drilled  in 
platoons  :  our  official  way  of  carrying  the  stick  was  outlined,  and  a  special 
drill  by  numbers,  drawn  up,  for  tucking  the  stick  under  the  arm,  taking  it 
into  the  hand  again,  and  cocking  it  up  into  the  air.  We  practised  in  two 
movements.  1  Put  the  stick  imder  left  arm  ;  2  Cut  the  right  hand  away ; 
1  seize  stick  on  the  vmder-side  ;  2  Bring  it  smartly  down  to  the  side.  We 
were  then  marched  up  and  down  the  road  saluting  by  numbers  imaginary 
officers. 

In  the  trenches  again  when  he  returns  to  France  in  September, 
1916. 

It  was  a  smelly  trench.  A  dead  Grerman — a  big  man — ^lay  on  his  stomach 
as  if  he  were  crawling  over  the  parades  down  into  the  trench  ;  he  had  lain 
there  some  days  and  that  comer  of  trench  reeked  even  when  someone  took 
him  by  the  legs  and  pulled  him  away  out  of  sight  though  not  out  of  smell 
into  a  shell  hole. 

A  whistle  would  be  heard,  nearer  and  nearer  ceasing  for  a  mere  fraction  of 
a  second  when  the  shell  was  falling  and  about  to  explode.  Where  was  it 
coming  ?  Men  cowered  and  trembled.  It  exploded  and  a  cloud  of  black 
ruk  went  up — in  the  communication  trench  agaiu,  you  went  down  it,  two 
men  were  buried  perhaps  more  you  were  told,  certainly  two.  The  trench  was 
a  mere  tmdulation  of  newly  turned  earth  under  it  somewhere  lay  two  men  or 
more.  You  dug  furiously.  No  sign.  Perhaps  you  were  standing  on  a 
couple  of  men  now,  pressing  the  life  out  of  them,  on  their  faces  or  chests.  A 
boot,  a  steel  helmet, — and  you  dig  and  scratch  and  imcover  a  grey  dirty  face, 
pitifully  drab  and  ugly,  the  eyes  closed,  the  whole  thing  limp  and  mean- 
looking  ;  this  is  the  devil  of  it  that  a  man  is  not  only  killed,  but  made  to  look 
so  vile  and  filthy  in  death,  so  futUe  and  meaningless  that  you  hate  the  sight 
of  him. 

Left  trenches  at  about  4-30  a.m.  Fearfully  tiring  march  back  to  C,  where 
we  lived  in  a  kind  of  manhole  in  the  trench.  B — Bl — and  I  had  one  to  om-- 
selves  and  our  valises  with  us.  Slept  and  fed.  Read  "  Scholar  Gipsy  "  and 
"  Thyrsis  "  and  talked  about  Oxford  together  at  night. 

A  few  quotations  may  now  be  given  showing  his  moods  and 
meditations  on  Ufe  and  death.     While  training  he  writes  : 

A  fearful  sense  of  the  grimness  of  things  came  over  me  last  night  which  it 
would  have  been  hard  to  express  even  then  and  of  which  it  is  hard  now  to 
recapture  even  the  details  .  .  .  the  ever  increasing  viciousness  and  malice  of 
the  Adjutant  and  C.S.M.  towards  us  seemed  to  keep  an  almost  personal 
fiend  of  terror  hovering  above  ovir  heads.  The  war  and  the  army  had  never 
looked  so  grim.  The  Army  is  really  the  most  anti-social  body  imaginable. 
It  maintains  itself  on  the  selfishness  and  hostility  of  nations  and  in  its  own 
ranks  holds  together  by  a  bond  of  fear  and  suspicion,  all  anti-social  feeling. 
Men  are  taught  to  fear  their  superiors  and  they  suspect  the  men.  Hatred  must 
be  often  present  and  only  fear  prevents  it  flaming  out. 

I  do  really  care  less  than  I  used  to  do  for  the  fools  and  bullies  in  oommaud 


ARTHUR  GRAEME  WEST  431 

of  me.  They  certainly  do  not  frighten  me  at  all  as  they  used  to.  I  don't 
care  a  jot  for  the  Adjutant  or  the  CO.  when  they  come  and  yap  and  make 
heavy  speeches  at  me.  I  do  not  mind  if  I  am  ticked  off  on  parade  and  I  don't 
think  I  should  be  at  all  shamed  if  I  were  finally  turned  down.  Mankind  is 
perpetually  puffing  itself  up  with  strange  imearthly  loyalties  and  promised 
rewards.  Man  goes  out  to  fight  for  a  delusion  to  defend  what  he  has  tricked 
up  as  his  Fatherland  ;  he  imposes  all  sorts  of  restraints  and  tortures  on  himself 
in  the  name  of  Virtue  and  Respectability,  sets  a  fool  above  him  to  worship, 
crawl  on  his  knees  to  and  shed  a  blessing  of  ' '  purposef ulness  ' '  on  his  most 
frightful  sufferings. 

It  was  during  his  leave  before  returning  to  France  that  the 
scales  fell  from  his  eyes  and  his  complete  change  of  view  with 
regard  to  the  war  took  place.  He  analyses  his  feelings  very 
fully,  but  we  can  only  take  a  few  passages  from  his  entries  during 
these  days  ; 

What  midgets  we  all  are,  what  brief  phantoms  in  a  dream — a  dream  within 
a  dream  this  truly  is  my  life  and  how  gladly  would  I  end  it  now. 

If  the  war  were  to  begin  to-morrow  and  were  to  find  me  as  I  am  now,  I 
would  not  join  the  Army,  and  if  I  had  the  courage  I  would  desert  now.  I 
have  been  reading  and  thiaking  fundamentally  important  things  this  last  ^^ 

few  months. 

Never  was  the  desire  to  desert  and  to  commit  suicide  so  overwhelming  and 
had  it  not  been  that  I  know  I  would  pain  my  people  I  would  certainly  have 
killed  myself  that  night. 

After  much  thought  wrote  to  the  Adjutant  of  the  Battalion  telling  him  I 
would  not  rejoin  the  Army  nor  accept  any  form  of  alternative  service,  that  I 
would  rather  be  shot  than  do  so,  and  that  I  left  my  name  and  address  with 
him  to  act  as  he  pleased.  Shortly  after  mid-night  I  went  down  to  the  post 
with  this  letter  and  two  more  one  to  J  and  one  to  E  telling  them  what  I  had 
done.  I  stood  opposite  the  pillar  box  for  some  minutes  wondering  whether 
I  would  post  them — then  put  them  in  my  pocket  and  returned  home  to  bed. 

It  would  certainly  be  much  pleasanter  if  I  could  regard  myself  still  in  this 
rather  sublime  light  as  the  man  who  goes  into  the  pit  for  his  friends  ;  but  I 
cannot  do  so  for  I  am  beginning  to  think  that  I  never  ought  to  have  gone  into 
it  at  all. 

I  am  a  creature  caught  in  a  net.  Most  men  fight,  if  not  happily,  at  any  rate 
patiently,  sure  of  the  necessity  and  usefulness  of  their  work.  So  did  I — 
once  !  Now  it  all  looks  to  me  so  absvud  and  brutal  that  I  can  only  force 
myself  to  continue  in  a  kind  of  dream  state.  I  hypnotise  myself  to  undergo 
it. 

I  feel  quite  clearly  that  I  ought  to  have  stood  aside.  It  is  these  men  who 
stand  aside,  these  philosophers  and  the  so  called  conscientious  objectors  who 
are  the  living  force  of  the  future ;  they  are  full  of  the  light  that  must  come 
sooner  or  later  ;   they  are  sneered  at  now  but  their  position  is  firm. 

We  are  confronted  with  two  sets  of  martyrs  here  ;  those  of  the  trenches 
and  those  of  the  tribunals  and  civil  prison  and  not  by  any  naeans  are  the 
former  necessarily  in  the  right. 


432  ENGLISH   DIARIES 

Even  be  the  thing  as  necessary  as  you  like,  be  the  constitution  of  this  world 
really  so  foul  and  hellish  that  force  must  be  met  by  force,  yet  I  should  have 
stood  aside,  no  brutaUty  should  have  led  me  into  it.  Had  I  stood  apart  I 
should  have  stood  on  fu-m  logical  ground  ;  where  I  was  truth  would  have 
been  as  it  is  among  my  friends  now.  To  defy  the  whole  system,  to  refuse  to 
be  an  instnunent  of  it — this  /  should  have  done. 

But  the  machine  of  which  he  had  become  a  part  was  too  strong 
for  him.  He  returned  to  the  front,  and  seven  months  later  he 
fell  to  a  sniper's  bullet. 

The  diary  is  an  extraordinarily  faithful  bit  of  self-revelation. 
He  evidently  writes  it  to  clear  his  mind,  and  here  and  there  he 
introduces  little  fragments  of  scene  painting,  notably  the  sight 
of  London  from  the  train  when  returning  on  leave.  His  inter- 
ludes on  rehgion  show  what  a  deeply  rehgious  nature  he  had, 
although  he  rejected  all  the  orthodox  beliefs.  He  writes  when 
back  in  France  : 

To-night  I  said  something  about  my  being  a  respectable  atheist,  to  which  it 
was  promptly  answered  that  there  could  be  no  such  thing  ;  and  people  said 
"  You  aren't  really  an  atheist,  are  you  ?  "  Thus  we  see  how  men  cannot  get 
out  of  their  minds  "  the  horrid  atheist  "  idea— the  idea  that  intellectual 
convictions  of  this  sort  must  of  necessity  imply  some  fearful  moral  laxity. 
The  most  religious  men  are  really  the  extreme  Cliristians  or  mystics  and  the 
atheists— nobody  can  tmderstand  this.  These  two  classes  have  really  occu- 
pied their  minds  with  religion. 

West's  mental  suffering  as  depicted  in  his  diary  is  typically 
twentieth  century,  although  his  misanthropy  and  hatred  of  the 
herd  are  more  individual.  But  a  diary  of  this  kind  could  not  have 
been  produced  in  the  earher  centuries. 

It  was  published  in  1920  under  the  title  of  The  Diary  of  a  Dead 
Officer,  together  with  some  poems  he  had  written. 


BARBELLION  ^ 

THE  concluding  diary  in  this  collection,  whatever  its  merits 
or  demerits  may  be,  is  very  far  from  showing  that  diary 
writing  has  deteriorated  into  a  dead  art.  BarbelHon's 
diaries  have  provoked  a  great  deal  of  discussion ;  they  have  revived 
interest  in  diary  writing,  and  have  shown  that  the  introspective 

1  The  Diary  extracts  are  quoted  from  The  Journal  oj  a  Disappointe  d  Man 
and  A  Last  Diary,  by  kind  permission  of  Messrs .  Chatto  &  Windus  and  the 
George  H.  Doran  Company  of  New  York. 


BARBELLION  433 

diarist  of  modern  days  may  carry  psychological  self-analysis  into 
very  deep  recesses  of  human  consciousness.  The  examination  of 
no  other  diary  could  afford  us  a  better  opportunity  for  referring 
once  again  to  some  of  the  considerations  about  diary  writing 
which  emerge  naturally  in  a  comparison  between  this  last  modern 
product  and  the  diaries  of  the  past.  In  matter  of  comparison 
one  might  get  an  even  more  fruitful  field  for  discussion  by  placing 
Barbellion  alongside  of  Maurice  de  Guerin  and  Marie  Bashkirtseff, 
for  his  very  unusual  lack  of  reticence  is  by  no  means  British. 

Barbellion's  diary  is  a  triumphant  vindication  of  the  conten- 
tion made  repeatedly  in  these  pages  that  position  and  circumstances 
have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  production  of  a  good  diary. 
Barbellion's  career  can  be  given  in  four  lines.  He  was  the 
son  of  a  provincial  journalist,  born  at  Barnstaple  in  1889,  he 
served  on  his  father's  paper  until  he  obtained  a  post  by  examina- 
tion on  the  staff  of  the  Natural  History  Museum  at  South  Ken- 
sington. He  died  in  1919.  That  is  all.  He  was  not  connected 
with  any  exciting  public  events,  he  never  met  any  celebrities,  and 
he  never  even  saw  any  royalty.  And  yet  without  giving  it  any 
exact  place  we  should  be  justified  in  ranking  his  record  very 
high  in  the  long  series  of  diaries  of  which  we  have  now  come  to 
the  end. 

But  there  are  some  rather  serious  adverse  criticisms  to  be  made, 
and  we  should  like  to  clear  these  out  of  the  way  to  start  with. 

The  diary  was  intended  for  publication,  or  at  least  after  the 
first  few  years  Barbellion's  desire  and  indeed  determination  to 
publish  becomes  apparent  in  the  entries.  It  is  true  that  he 
refused  to  show  it  to  anyone,  even  to  his  brother  ;  nevertheless, 
after  his  boyhood  had  passed  he  was  clearly  bent  on  the  journal 
appearing  while  he  was  alive.  This  in  the  case  of  a  very  intimate 
private  diary  unquestionably  makes  a  difference.  Indiscretions 
and  revelations  seem  to  become  intentional,  and  we  cannot  feel 
quite  the  same  sympathy  for  the  author  as  we  should  feel  for  a 
writer  of  far  less  intellectual  power  who  was  keeping  a  strictly 
private  record.  Nevertheless  we  must  remember  that  Greville, 
Haydon,  and  Gordon  all  wrote  for  publication,  although  they  did 
not  contemplate  the  appearance  of  their  records  during  their 
own  lifetimes. 

Our  next  criticism  concerns  a  more  serious  point.  The  first 
volume  of  the  diaries  appeared  in  1919  under  the  title  of  The 
Journal  of  a  Disappointed  Man.  It  caused  a  considerable  sensa- 
tion. On  the  last  page,  after  some  rather  harrowing  entries, 
appeared  the  statement  "  Barbellion  died  on  December  31." 
28 


484  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

The  book  was  sufficiently  remarkable  to  cause  a  good  deal  of  specu- 
lation as  to  the  identity  of  the  author.  When  it  was  discovered 
that  his  name  was  not  BarbeUion  but  Cummings— a  tnflmg  matter 
of  a  pseudonym— and  that  he  was  not  dead,  then  pubhc  opmion 
swung  round  to  regarding  the  whole  thing  as  a  fake— one  false 
entry  1  how  many  others  ?  What  is  genuine  and  what  is  not  ? 
Is  it  all  fiction  ?  And  considerable  harm  would  have  been  done 
to  what  may  well  be  called,  the  authenticity  of  the  book  had  it 
not  been  for  the  perfectly  simple  and  straightforward  explanation 
of  all  the  attendant  circumstances  which  was  written  by  Bar- 
beUion's  brother  in  the  preface  to  the  Last  Diary. 

The  false  entry  BarbeUion  defended  by  saying,  "  The  fact  is 
no  man  dare  remain  alive  after  writing  such  a  book,"  and  he  never 
expected  he  would  be  aUve  to  see  it  in  print.  But  it  was  a  crucial 
fault  of  judgment.  The  device  was  bound  to  be  discovered,  and 
nothing  is  more  damaging  to  a  diary  than  the  growth  of  suspicion 
as  to  the  author's  sincerity.  BarbeUion  undoubtedly  wanted 
a  dramatic  finish.  Had  he  read  Haydon's  diary,  we  are  not  at 
aU  sure  he  would  not  have  foUowed  Haydon's  example.  In  fact, 
there  are  plenty  of  entries  such  as—"  thoughts  of  smcide— a 
pistol  "  or  "  I  wish  I  could  die  of  heart  failure  and  at  once, 
as  well  as  an'^actual  confession  that  he  fears  the  end  wiU  not  be 
dramatic.  "^Pray  God  the  curtain  falls  at  the  right  moment  lest 
the  play  drag  on  into  some  long  and  tedious  anticUmax." 

We  must  accuse  BarbelUon,  too,  if  not  of  insincerity,  anyhow  of 
posing.  After  the  first  few  years,  when  it  is  clear  he  is  writing 
for  publication,  he  does  a  lot  of  attitudinising,  constantly  re- 
flecting himself  in  a  discreditable  fight.  The  self-analysis  and 
self-revelation  is  searching.  But  we  may  claim  BarbeUion  as  an 
instance  of  the  failure  of  the  intense  self-dissector  to  give  an 
accurate  picture  of  himself.  The  picture  we  get  of  him  m  his 
brother's  preface  corrects  a  good  many  errors  which  the  reader 
of  the  diary  may  quite  legitimately  conceive  from  the  written  con- 
fessions. But  he  himself  knows  that  his  attempts  to  depict  him- 
self are  in  vain  when  he  writes  in  the  Last  Diary : 

It  18  almost.impossible  to  teU  the  truth.  In  this  journal  I  have  tried  but 
I  have  not  succeeded.  I  have  set  dmvn  a  good  deal  but  I  cannot  <e«  it.  itutn 
of  self  has  to  be  left  by  the  psychology-miner  at  the  bottom  of  his  bonng. 

And  right  at  the  end,  within  a  few  months  of  the  close,  he 
confesses : 

In  the  Journal  I  can  see  now  that  I  made  myself  out  worse  than  I  am  or 
was.     I  even  took  a  morbid  pleasure  in  intimating  my  depravity— self  mortih- 


BARBELLION  435 

cation.  ...  I  don't  think  on  the  whole  my  portrait  of  myself  does  myself 
justice. 

Barbellion  is  one  of  our  few  literary  diarists,  and  we  can  see 
what  a  snare  his  literary  talent  must  have  been  to  the  conscientious 
fidelity  of  his  record.  He  is  thinking  of  finish,  of  style,  of  com- 
position, of  expression.  With  his  talent,  which  is  of  a  very  high 
order,  he  often  delights  us,  but  we  miss  the  blunt  self-revealing 
indiscretion  which  in  some  diaries  may  make  us  wince,  but  brings 
the  diarist's  personality  right  before  us.  Again  we  do  not  get 
the  whole  diary,  it  has  been  trimmed  from  the  artistic  point  of 
view,  not  by  an  editor,  but  by  Barbellion  himself. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  pose  and  insincerity,  in  spite  of  his 
instinct  for  publicity,  we  get  passages  so  obviously,  so  poig- 
nantly, so  intimately  sincere  and  so  intensely  human  that 
you  lay  down  the  book  feeling  you  have  been  in  the  closest 
contact  with  a  human  being  that  is  conceivably  possible 
through  the  medium  of  a  printed  page.  In  spite  of  his  failure 
to  explain  himself,  his  attempts  to  do  it  are  so  interesting,  so 
ingenious,  and  often  so  amusing,  that  a  reader  finds  himself 
eagerly  beginning  his  own  self-examination.  In  spite  of  the 
snares  which  literary  talent  presents  to  a  diarist,  nature  and  more 
especially  animal  life  are  depicted  with  a  delicacy  and  refine- 
ment of  touch  which  gives  artistic  pleasure  quite  apart  from  the 
psychological  interest  of  the  other  parts  of  the  diary  ;  and  instead 
of  the  wearisome  "  I  met  Prince  A,  the  Duke  of  B,  and  Lady  C," 
we  get  portraits  of  lodging-house  keepers,  farm  hands,  nurses, 
etc.,  which  are  all  gems. 

People  have  made  friends  and  confidants  of  their  diaries ; 
Barbellion's  love  and  devotion  for  his  was  beyond  all  bounds : 
It  is  a  "  superconfidant "  ;  keeping  a  journal  is  "to  have  a  secret 
liaison  of  a  very  sentimental  kind."  He  begins  it  when  he  is 
about  thirteen  and  continues  it  to  make  notes  on  natural  history, 
in  which  he  is  deeply  interested.  Gradually  it  expands  and 
becomes  a  habit,  and  then  a  passion. 

I  fall  back  on  this  Journal  just  as  some  other  poor  devil  takes  to  drink. 

He  takes  the  most  elaborate  precautions  to  preserve  the  volumes 
from  fire  or  from  possible  Zeppelin  raids,  and  imagines  a  fireman 
'  in  a  brass  helmet  and  his  hatchet  up  at  the  salute  "  guarding 
them. 

These  precious  Journals !  Supposing  I  lost  thena  I  cannot  imagine 
the  anguish  it  would  cause  me.     It  would  be  the  death  of  my  real  self, 


436  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

and  as  I  should  take  no  pleasure  in  the  perpetuation  of  my  flabby,  flaccid, 
anaemic,  aimiable,  puppet  self,  I  should  probably  commit  suicide. 

He  here  makes  the  egotist's  usual  hasty  conclusion  that  the 
inner  self  must  be  the  real  self,  and  the  outer  self  that  other 
people  see  counts  for  nothing.  Nevertheless,  he  is  quite  aware 
that,  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  at  meticulous  recollection  and  detailed 
sifting,  much  is  lost : 

However  vigilant  and  artful  a  diarist  may  be,  plenty  of  things  escape  him. 

He  is  not  regular  in  his  writing.  After  an  interval  of  a  month 
he  writes  : 

Hulloa,  old  friend  ;  how  are  you  ?  I  mean  my  Diary.  I  haven't  wiilten 
to  you  for  ever  so  long  and  my  silence  as  usual  indicates  happiness. 

And  there  are  the  moments  of  misgiving : 

Is  this  blessed  Journal  worth  while  ?  I  really  don't  know  and  that's  the 
harassing  fact  of  the  matter. 

I  am  tortured  by  two  doubts — whether  these  MSS.  (the  labour  and  hope 
of  many  years)  will  survive  accidental  loss  and  whether  they  really  are  of  any 
value.     I  have  no  faith  in  either. 

Am  busy  re-writing,  editing,  bowdlerising  my  journals  for  publication 
against  the  time  when  I  shall  have  gone  the  way  of  aU  flesh.  .  .  .  Reading  it 
through  again,  I  see  what  a  remarkable  book  I  have  written.  K  only  they 
will  publish  it. 

His  egoism  is  abnormal,  and  he  cultivates  it. 

My  egoism  appals  me.  Likewise  the  extreme  intensification  of  the  con- 
sciousness of  myself. 

I  have  come  to  loath  myself  :  my  finicking,  hypersensitive,  morbid  nature 
always  thinking,  talking,  writing  about  myself  for  all  the  world  as  if  the  world 
beyond  did  not  exist  !  I  am  rings  within  rings,  circles  concentric  and  inter- 
secting, a  maze,  a  tangle  ;  watching  myself  behave  or  misbehave  always 
reflecting  on  what  impression  I  am  making  on  others  or  what  they  will  think 
of  me. 

My  own  life  as  it  vmrolls  day  by  day  is  a  source  of  constant  amazement, 
delight  and  pain.  I  can  think  of  no  more  interesting  volume  than  a  detailed 
intimate  psychological  history  of  my  own  life.  I  want  a  perfect  comprehen- 
sion at  least  of  myself. 

And  he  was  ingenuous  enough  to  think  he  could  get  it.  Although 
at  times  he  seems  to  understand  that  an  egotist  is  not  a  good  self- 
estimator  : 

I  am  so  steeped  in  myself — in  my  moods,  vapours,  idiosyncracies,  so  self- 
sodden  that  I  am  unable  to  stand  clear  of  the  data,  to  marshal  and  classify 
the  multitude  of  facts  and  thence  draw  the  deduction  what  manner  of  man 


BARBELLION  437 

I  am.  I  should  like  to  know — if  only  as  a  matter  of  curiosity.  So  what 
in  God's  name  am  I  ?  A  fool  of  course  to  start  with — but  the  rest  of  the 
diagnosis  ? 

Barbellion  had  ambition — high  ambition.  "  You  can  search 
all  history  and  fiction  for  an  ambition  more  powerful  than 
mine  and  not  find  it."  He  wanted  to  be  a  great  naturalist, 
and  he  was  remarkably  well  equipped  for  success  in  such 
a  career.  At  the  same  time  he  was  conscious  of  a  literary 
gift,  so  that  one  way  or  another  he  seemed  destined  to  make  his 
mark.  The  tragedy  of  his  life  was  his  ill-health :  at  first  only 
inconvenient,  then  serious,  and  at  last  he  was  a  condemned  man 
and  he  knew  it.  Extreme  depression  and  morbidity  were  only 
natural.  Everything  he  did,  said,  thought,  or  felt  was  coloured 
or  rather  had  the  colour  taken  out  of  it.  His  sense  of  proportion 
was  dislocated.  The  actual  tragedy  of  approaching  death  was 
bad  enough,  indeed  it  could  hardly  have  been  worse.  But 
for  effects'  sake  he  begins  to  pile  it  on  ;  not  only  to  welcome 
the  "  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune,"  but  to  insin- 
uate their  existence  when  there  was  no  reason  for  it.  Just  as 
in  the  early  entries  he  seems  to  convey  that  at  home  he  had 
no  encouragement  for  his  naturalist  studies,  which  his  brother 
shows  was  quite  untrue;  so  also  in  the  later  entries  when  he 
is  a  prisoner  awaiting  death  he  seems  at  times  to  convey 
that  he  is  abandoned  and  deserted,  if  not  actually  neglected,  by 
his  elaborate  descriptions  of  discomfort,  draughty  windows  with 
bits  of  cardboard  over  the  broken  panes,  etc.,  etc.  But  then 
again  he  has  a  way  of  suddenly  recovering  himself,  as,  for  instance, 
after  an  entry  in  which  he  says  everyone  will  be  relieved  to  hear 
of  his  death,  he  writes  the  next  day  that  this  entry  is  "  maudlin 
tosh — entirely  foreign  to  my  nature.  I  hereby  cancel  it."  So 
in  the  ups  and  downs,  the  misrepresentations,  the  varieties,  the 
shrewd  observations,  the  yearnings  and  the  despair,  we  get  a 
very  wonderful  picture  of  a  nimble  brain  and  alert  consciousness 
being  played  upon  and  gradually  strangled  by  physical  suffering. 

In  his  good  moods  his  work,  nature,  his  father  and  mother, 
his  music,  and  later  his  wife,  all  weave  themselves  naturally  into 
his  life  of  suffering.  With  the  deepest  compassion  for  him  one 
feels  conscious  of  his  charm.  In  his  bad  moods,  artificiality, 
sententious  posing  and  desire  to  paint  himself  in  lurid  colours 
are  sometimes  sufficiently  irritating  to  make  one  dislike  him. 
We  get  bits  of  pure  Bashkirtseff  like  the  following : 

Do  you  think  I  would  exchange  the  communion  with  my  own  heart  for 
the  toy  balloons  of  your  silly  conversation  ?     Or  my  curiosity  for  your  flicker- 


438  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

ing  interests  ?  Or  my  despair  for  your  comfortable  Hope  ?  Or  my  present 
tawdry  life  for  yoiirs  as  polished  and  neat  as  a  new  threepenny  bit  ?  I  would 
not.  I  gather  my  mantle  around  me  and  I  solemnly  thank  God  that  I  am  not 
as  some  other  men  are. 

It  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  page  on  which  this  occurs  that  the 
false  entry  of  his  death  comes.  He  thought  the  defiant  note 
fine  and  dramatic.  It  is  all  made  up,  Barbellion  would  have 
been  all  the  better  if  he  had  never  come  across  Bashkirtseff. 
Of  course  he  was  infatuated  by  her. 

My  father  was  Sir  Thomas  Browne  and  my  mother  Marie  Bashkirtsefi. 
See  what  a  curiovis  hybrid  I  am  ! 

She  feels  as  I  feel.  We  have  the  same  self  absorption,  the  same  vanity, 
and  corroding  ambition.  She  is  impressionable,  volatile,  passionate, — ill. 
So  am  I,     Her  journal  is  my  journal. 

Luckily  in  diary  writing  even  Marie  Bashkirtseff  cannot  com- 
pletely control  and  dictate  the  style,  and  the  real  Barbellion 
emerges  where  he  is  attempting  least  to  reveal  himself. 

Barbellion  was  by  no  means  a  cynic  to  whom  nothing  was 
sacred.  He  appreciates  the  refined  delicacy  of  certain  human 
relationships  as  acutely  as  he  responds  to  the  special  beauties 
and  wonders  of  nature.  The  real  drama  of  his  opening  the  letter 
(not  used  by  the  medical  officer  before  whom  he  went)  which 
divulges  to  him  that  he  is  doomed,  his  wife's  knowledge  of  this 
fact  before  she  married  him — this  sort  of  thing  is  just  related 
without  a  word  of  elaborate  ornament,  without  a  single  artificial 
gesture. 

She  has  known  all  from  the  beginniag  !  M —  warned  her  not  to  marry  me. 
How  brave  and  loyal  of  her  !  What  an  ass  I  have  been.  I  am  overwhelmed 
with  feelings  of  shame  and  seK  contempt  and  sorrow  for  her.  She  is  quite 
cheerful  and  an  enormotis  help. 

Home  again  with  my  darling.  She  is  the  most  wonderful  darling  woman. 
Our  love  is  for  always.     The  Baby  is  a  monster. 

He  writes  in  the  same  natural  way  when  he  refers  to  his  mother ; 

Mother  (she  liked  me  to  call  her  Moth.  Hubbard,  Lepidopterous  Hubbard 
and  she  used  to  sign  her  letters  Hubbard)  had  a  pretty  custom  which  she 
hated  anyone  to  detect,  of  putting  every  letter  she  wrote  to  us  when  stamped, 
directed  and  sealed  into  her  Bible  for  a  minute  or  two,  ostensibly  to  sanctify 
the  sealing  up. 

And  the  terrible  episode  of  his  opening  the  letter  in  which  his 
illness  was  described  he  relates  quite  simply  : 

The  certificate,  therefore,  was  not  needed  £ind  coming  home  in  the  train  I 


BARBELLION  439 

opened  it  out  of  curiosity.     I  was  quite  casual  and  thought  it  would  be  merely 
interesting  to  see  what  M.  said. 
It  was. 

At  first  he  takes  it  calmly,  not  knowing  by  its  name  the  horrible 
and  obscure  disease  of  which  he  was  the  victim.  But  his  symptoms 
gradually  enlighten  him.  One  day — this  is  one  of  the  most 
vividly  realistic  touches  in  the  record — ^he  was  at  work  in  a  library 
where 

my  eye  caught  the  title  of  an  enormous  quarto  memoir  in  the  Transactions 

of  the  Royal  Society.     The  Histology  of [his  disease].      I  was  browsing 

in  the  library  at  the  time  when  this  hit  me  like  a  carelessly  handled  gaS 
straight  in  the  face.     I  almost  ran  away  to  my  room. 

The  diary  does  not  deal  with  regular  daily  doings  like  an  ordinary 
diary.  It  is  a  notebook  of  thoughts  intermingled  with  occasional 
incidents. 

Some  of  his  naturalists'  notes  which  he  continues  when  he  is 
doing  journalistic  work  may  be  given  : 

On  reviewing  the  past  egg  season,  I  find  in  all  I  have  discovered  232  nesta 
belonging  to  forty-four  species.  I  only  hope  I  shall  be  successful  with  the 
beetle  season. 

A  hot  sultry  afternoon  during  most  of  which  I  was  stretched  out  on  the  grass 
beside  an  upturned  stone  where  a  battle  royal  was  fought  between  Yellow  and 
Black  Ants.  The  victory  went  to  the  hardy  little  yellows.  By  the  way  I 
held  a  Newt  by  the  tail  to-day  and  it  emitted  a  squeak  !  So  that  the  Newt  has 
a  voice  after  all. 

Hard  at  work  dissecting  a  Dogfish.  Ruridecanal  Conference  in  the  after- 
noon. I  enjoy  this  double  life  I  lead.  It  amuses  me  to  be  laying  bare  the 
brain  of  a  dogfish  in  the  morning  and  in  the  afternoon  to  be  taking  down  in 
shorthand  what  the  Bishop  says  on  Mission  work. 

Of  his  early  sexual  experiences  we  expect  there  is  a  good  deal 
more  than  we  are  allowed  to  see.  The  various  kissings  of  girls  are 
rather  tamely  vulgar.  But  he  sums  up  in  a  terse  phrase  the  usual 
position  of  a  young  man  on  this  subject. 

For  myself  I  never  received  any  parental  instruction.  I  first  learned  of  the 
wonder  of  generation  through  the  dirty  filter  of  a  barmaid's  nasty  mind. 

The  journals  abound  in  beautiful  descriptions  of  nature  and 
animal  life ;  unfortunately  most  of  them  are  too  long  to  quote. 
He  combines  scientific  knowledge  with  aesthetic  appreciation 
which  is  not  a  common  combination,  and  his  intensest  happiness 
is  when  he  is  just  drinking  in  the  beauties  around  him. 

Here  is  a  summer  afternoon  when  he  is  21  : 


440  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

I  waded  up  stream  to  a  big  slab  of  rock  tilted  at  a  comfortable  angle.  I 
lay  flat  on  this  with  my  nether  extremities  in  water  up  to  my  knees.  The  sun 
bathed  my  face  and  dragon  flies  chased  up  and  down  intent  on  murder.  But 
I  cared  not  a  tinker's  Demetrius  about  Nature  red  in  tooth  and  claw.  I  was 
quite  satisfied  with  Nature  under  a  June  sun  in  the  cool  atmosphere  of  a 
Dipper  stream.  I  lay  on  the  slab  completely  relaxed  and  the  cool  water  ran 
strongly  between  my  toes.  Surely  I  was  never  again  going  to  be  miserable. 
The  voices  of  children  playing  in  the  wood  made  me  extra  happy. 

As  a  rule  I  loathe  children.  I  am  too  much  of  a  youth  still.  But  not  this 
morning.     For  these  were  fairy  voices  ringing  through  the  enchanted  wood. 

There  are  very  amusing  little  snatches  of  dialogue,  notably 
one  with  a  deaf  old  man  up  in  an  apple  tree,  those  with  his  nurse 
in  the  last  journal,  and  another  with  a  social  climber  whose  smile 
puzzles  him. 

I  am  sorry  but  though  I  scrutinised  this  lick  spittle  and  arch  belly-truck 
rider  very  closely  I  am  quite  unable  to  say  whether  that  smile  and  unwonted 
diffidence  meant  simple  pleasure  at  the  now  certain  knowledge  that  I  was  duly 
impressed  or  whether  it  was  genuine  confusion  at  the  thought  that  he  had 
perhaps  been  overdoing  it. 

There  are  wonderfully  good  descriptions  of  all  sorts  of  trivial 
incidents,  such  as  the  silent  workmen  putting  a  new  pile  in  the 
pier,  Sunday  morning  in  Petticoat  Lane,  and  street  scenes  as  he 
passes  by.  But  to  music  he  gives  a  very  special  place,  his  con- 
certs and  his  thoughts  on  it  are  often  elaborately  described.  It 
brings  out  the  most  passionate  and  emotional  side  of  his  character. 
This  on  Beethoven's  Fifth  Symphony  ; 

This  sjTuphony  always  works  me  up  into  an  ecstacy  ;  in  ecstatic  sympathy 
with  its  dreadfulness  I  could  stand  up  in  the  balcony  and  fling  myself  down 
passionately  into  the  arena  below.  Yet  there  were  women  sitting  alongside 
me  to-day — knitting.  It  so  annoyed  and  irritated  me  that  at  the  end  of  the 
first  movement  I  got  up  and  sat  elsewhere.  They  would  have  sat  knitting  at 
the  foot  of  the  Cross,  I  suppose. 

He  reaches  the  high  watermark  of  amusing  and  fantastic 
writing  in  his  description  of  Sir  Henry  Wood  conducting  his 
orchestra,  which  unfortunately  is  too  long  for  quotation  and  would 
be  spoilt  by  extracts.  The  little  scraps  of  dialogue  are  introduced 
with  a  very  comic  effect.  We  may  give  one  of  his  brief  inconse- 
quent conversations  with  his  nurse : 

B.  (to  nurse  stepping  on  his  toes)  Seemingly  either  my  feet  or  yours  are  very 
large. 

N.  Oh,  but  you  see  it's  my  legs  are  so  short  I  can't  step  across  easily.  It 
will  be  all  right  if  you  go  to  Eastbourne.     Nurse has  long  legs. 

B.  But  what's  the  use  of  her  long  legs  if  she  can't  get  a  house  ? 


BARBELLION  441 

N.  Aunt  Hobart's  legs  were  so  bent  up  that  though  she  was  six  feet  long 
her  coffin  was  only  four  feet. 

B.  Why  were  Aunt  Hobart's  legs  bent  up  ? 

N.  Rheumatism.     She  was  buried  at  the  same  time  as  her  granddaughter. 

B.  But  her  legs  were  not  bent  up  ? 

N.  Oh,  no.     Bessie  was  only  sixteen  and  died  of  scarlet  fever. 

So  far  as  public  affairs  are  concerned  the  war  of  course  forms 
the  background  of  the  diary. 

As  he  is  at  once  rejected  for  military  service  and  has  to  be 
"  a  compulsory  spectator,"  it  does  not  enter  into  his  personal 
experience.  Nevertheless  the  sombre  presence  of  the  prolonged 
tragedy  is  in  keeping  with  his  moods  of  depression,  and  he  lets 
fly  more  than  once  in  his  exasperation  and  his  gorge  rises  at  the 
journalistic  gloatings. 

Sometimes  I  am  swept  away  with  admiration  for  all  the  heroism  of  the  War 
or  by  some  particulariy  noble  self  sacrifice  and  think  it  is  really  all  worth 
while.  Then — and  more  frequently — I  remember  that  this  war  has  let  loose 
in  the  worid  not  only  barbarities,  butcheries,  and  crimes,  but  lies,  lies,  lies — 
hypocrisies,  deceits,  ignoble  desires  for  self  aggrandizement,  self  preservation — 
such  as  no  one  ever  dreamed  existed  in  embryo  in  the  heart  of  human  beings. 

The  war  is  everything  :  it  is  noble,  filthy,  great,  petty,  degrading,  inspiring, 
ridiculous,  glorious,  mad,  bad,  hopeless,  yet  full  of  hope.  I  don't  know  what 
to  think  about  it. 

We  are  like  a  nest  of  frightened  ants  when  someone  lifts  the  stone.  That 
is  the  world  just  now. 

And  there  are  one  or  two  accounts  of  air  raid  experiences 
which  affect  his  heart.  But  on  the  whole  and  very  naturally 
it  is  his  own  fate,  the  inexorable  approach  of  death,  which  absorbs 
him.  Throughout,  ill  health  forces  him  into  moods  of  depression, 
though  sometimes  he  tries  to  take  it  lightly,  as  when  he  says : 

Feel  like  a  piece  of  d^a^vn  threadwork  or  an  undeveloped  negative  or  a 
jelly  fish  on  stilts  or  a  sloppy  tadpole  or  a  weevil  in  a  nut,  or  a  spitch  cocked 
eel.     In  other  words  and  in  short — ill. 

But  death  looms  largely  in  his  thoughts,  how  could  it  be  other- 
wise ?  His  attitude  towards  it  varies  ;  sometimes  banter,  some- 
times petulant  indignation,  sometimes  solemn  welcome.  A  few 
entries  must  be  given  : 

I  cannot  for  the  life  of  me  rake  up  any  excitement  over  my  own  immediate 
decease — an  unobtrusive  passing  away  of  a  rancorous  disappointed  morbid 
and  self  assertive  entomologist  in  a  West  Kensington  Boarding  House — what 
a  mean  little  tragedy  !     It  is  hard  not  to  be  somebody  even  in  death. 

I  suppose  the  truth  is  I  am  at  last  broken  in  to  the  idea  of  Death.  Once  it 
terrified  me  and  once  I  hated  it.     But  now  it  only  annoys  me.     Having  lived 


442  ENGLISH  DIARIES 

with  the  Bogey  for  so  long  and  broken  bread  with  him  so  often  I  am  used  to 
his  ugliness  tho'  his  persistent  attentions  bore  me.  Why  doesn't  he  do  it 
and  have  done  with  me  ?  Why  this  deference,  why  does  he  pass  me  everything 
but  the  poison  ?     Why  am  I  such  an  unconscionable  time  dying  ? 

On  the  HiU,  this  morning,  felt  the  thrill  of  the  news  of  my  own  Death.  I 
mean  I  imagined  I  heard  the  words — 

'  You've  heard  the  news  about  B  ?  ' 

Second  voice  '  No,  what  ?  ' 

He's  dead. 

Silence. 

Won't  aU  this  seem  piffle  if  I  don't  die  after  all !  As  an  artist  in  life  I 
ought  to  die,  it  is  the  only  artistic  ending — and  I  ought  to  die  now  or  the  Third 
Act  will  fizzle  out  in  a  long  doctor's  bill. 

It  is  this  sort  of  thing  which  makes  us  understand  the  false 
entry  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

In  the  Last  Diary  the  prospect  of  death  becomes  more  poignant, 
and  more  real,  especially  when  he  thinks  of  his  wife. 

It  is  cruel — cruel  to  her  and  cruel  to  me.  There  comes  a  time  when  evil 
circimistances  squeeze  you  out  of  this  world.  There  is  no  longer  any  room. 
Oh.     Why  did  she  marry  me  ?     They  ought  not  to  have  let  her  do  it. 

Lying  in  bed  \^aiting,  his  one  great  excitement  is  the  publication 
of  the  volume  of  the  diary: 

March  26.  Time  lures  me  forward.  But  I've  dug  my  heels  in  awaiting 
those  two  old  tortoises  Chatto  and  Windus. 

March  27.  I've  won  !  This  morning  at  9  a.m.  the  book  arrived.  C.  and 
W.  thoughtfully  left  the  pages  to  be  cut,  so  I've  been  enjoying  the  exqmsite 
pleasure  of  cutting  the  pages  of  my  own  book.  And  nothing's  happened. 
No  earthquake,  no  thunder  and  lighting,  no  omen  in  a  black  sky.  In  fact  the 
sun  is  shining.     Publication  next  week. 

In  the  intervals  he  gives  us  terrible  descriptions  of  the  contor- 
tions of  his  semi-paralytic  legs  and  details  of  the  sick  room. 
But  the  naturalist  is  very  much  alive  to  the  end.  He  writes 
lovingly  of  his  canary  : 

The  jacket  is  put  over  his  cage  at  night  fall  and  aU  night  he  roosts  on  a  table 
close  to  my  bed.  When  I  wake  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  it  is  difficult  to 
believe  that  close  to  me  there  is  a  little  heart  incessantly  pumping  hot  red 
blood.  I  have  a  sense  of  companionship  at  the  thought.  For  I  too  silent 
concealed  in  my  bed  possess  a  heart  pumping  incessantly  though  not  so  fast. 
I  too  am  an  animal,  little  bird,  and  we  must  both  die. 

And  almost  at  the  end : 

A  beautiful  morning.  At  the  bottom  of  my  bed  two  French  windows  open 
out  on  to  the  garden,  where  a  blackbird  is  singing  me  something  more  than 
weU.     It  is  a  magnificent  flute  obligate  to  the  tune  in  my  heart  going  "  thub 


BARBELLION  443 

dup  "  "  thub  dup  "  wildly  as  if  I  were  a  youth  again  in  first  love.     He  shouted 
out  his  song  in  the  evening  the  very  moment  I  arrived  here. 

What  fine  spirits  these  blackbirds  are  !  I  listen  to  him  and  my  withered 
carcase  soaks  up  his  song  with  a  sighing  sound  like  a  dry  sponge  taking  up 
water. 

There  is  much  quotable  material  in  Barbellion's  diaries.  But 
we  must  part  company  from  our  last  diarist,  and  we  do  so  feeling 
we  have  reached  not  only  an  end  but  something  of  a  climax. 


INDEX 


OF    ALL    DIARIES    AND    CHRONICLES 
MENTIONED    IN    THE    VOLUME 


Abbot,    Charles    (Lord    Colchester), 

13,  320-1 
Amiel,  10,  37 

Ashmole,  Elias,  14,  15,  34,  114-116 
Aston,  John,  119-120 
Ayshcombe,  William,  153 

Bagot,  Mary,  18 

Baker,  John,  13,  14,  15,  25,  212-215 

BarbeUion,  3,  12,  13,  14,  432-443 

Bashkii-tsefE,  Marie,  10,  43,  433,  438 

Bee,  Jacob,  154 

Berry,  Mary,  420-1 

Blunt,  Wilfred,  viii  {note) 

Boswell,  J.,  4,  9 

Brakelond,  J.  de,  40 

Brereton,  Sir  William,  118-119 

Brown,  Nicholas,  21 

Browne,  Mary,  6,  25,  362-363 

Browne,  Mrs.,  15,  29,  220-224 

Brownlow,  Lady,  17 

Bufton,  John,  155 

Bumey,  Fanny  (Madame  d'Arblay), 

6,  17,  21,  29,  171-183,  338 
Bm-rell,  Timothy,  14,  15,  25,  142-144 
Bm-y,  Lady  Charlotte,  17,  39,  337-342 
Butler,  Lady  Eleanor  {see  Ladies  of 

Llangollen). 
Butler,  Mrs.  {see  Kemble,  Fanny). 
Butler,  Samuel,  38 
Byrom,  Elizabeth,  13,  203-204 
Byrom,  John,  25,  200-202 
Byron,  Lord,  6,  11,  14,  33,  42,  264- 

271 

Calverley,  Sir  Walter,  13fr-138 
Carlisle,  George  Howard,  7th  Earl  of, 

298,  393-396 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  vii 
Cartwright,  Bishop,  144-147 


Clinton,  Henry  Fynes,  6,  11,  12,  13, 

19,  25,  357-361 
Cobbett,  WUliam,  13,  280-287 
Cockburn,  Admiral,  21,  352-353 
Coke,  Lady  Mary,  29,  233-234 
Colchester,  Lord  (see  Abbot,  Charles). 
Coningsby,  Sir  Thomas,  39,  68-70 
Cook,  Captain,  27 
Cory,  William,  412-415 
Cowper,  Mary  Cotmtess,  29,  193-196 
Creevey,  Thomas,  335-337 

D'Arblay,  Madame  {see  Bumey, 
Fanny). 

Darwin,  Charles,  27-28 

Dawson,  John,  231-232 

Dee,  Dr.  John,  13,  14,  15,  17,  25,  61- 
66 

De  la  Pryme,  Abraham,  140-142 

Denison,  John  Evelyn  (Viscount 
Ossington),  423 

Derby,  3rd  and  4th  Earls  of,  19 

D'Ewes,  Sir  Simonds,  34,  71-75 

Dodington,  George  Bubb  (Lord  Mel- 
combe),  6,  17,  208-212 

Dowsing,  W.,  20,  120-122 

Dugard,  T.,  25,  154 

Dyott,  General,  34,  39,  314-318 

Edward  VI,  6,  55-58 
Egmont,  1st  Earl  of  (Viscount  Per- 
cival),  15,  17,  18,  36,  164-170,  212 
Eliot,  George,  13,  14,  39,  403-407 
Evelyn,  John,  21,  26,  96-106 
Eyre,  Adam,  15,  122-125 

Farington,  viii  {note) 
FeU,  Sarah,  19 
Fielding,  Henry,  224-227 
Fiennes,  Celia,  29,  148-152 


445 


446 


ENGLISH  DIARIES 


Fox,  Caroline,  13,  21,  30,  33,  300- 

305,  346 
Fox,  George,  2 
Froude,  R.  H.,  363-364 
Fry,  Elizabeth,  6,  13,  15,  16,  39,  321- 

326 

Gale,  Walter,  13,  206-208 

Gladstone,  Mrs.,  369 

Gladstone,  W.  E.,  6,  13,  23,  39,  364- 

369 
GoodaU,  WiUiam,  23,  379-380 
Gordon,    General,    22,    25,    306-313, 

433 
Gordon-Lennox,   Lord  Bernard,  39, 

424-428 
Graham,  Sir  Gerald,  19,  411-412 
Grant-Duff,  Sir  M.,  24,  422-423 
Gray,  Thomas,  236-237 
Green,  Thomas,  19,  249-251 
Greville,  Charles,  1,  5,  8,  14,  18,  21, 

36,  272-279,  433 
Greville,  Henry,  19,  21,  374-376 
Grey,  Thomas,  422 
Gu^rin,  Maxirice  de,  433 
Gyll,  Thomas,  252 

Hannington,  James,  25,  416-418 

Hastings,  Marquis  of,  421 

HaydoD,  B.  R.,  12,  13,  33,  36,  38, 

254-263,  433 
Henslowe,  Philip,  20 
Heywood,  Oliver,  12,  13,  131-133 
Hobson,  John,  19,  205-206 
Holland,  Elizabeth,  Lady,  246-249 
Hvmter,  Joseph,  421 

Jackson,  Sir  George,  331-332 
Jowett,  Benjamin,  38 

Kemble,    Fanny   (Mrs.    Butler),    29, 
371-374 

Labouchere,  H.,  21 

Ladies  of  Llangollen,  19,  20,  26,  241- 

246 
Lake,  Dr.  Edward,  17,  138-140 
Leeds,  Thomas  Osborne,  Duke  of,  20 
Leland,  17 

Lennox  (see  Gordon- Lennox). 
Lloyd,  Captain  Eyre,  39,  418-420 
LuttreU,  N.,  5,  152-153 


Macaulay,  Lord,  5,  13,  19,  389-393 
Macaiilay,  Margaret,  393 
Machyn,  Henry,  58-61 
Malcolm,  Lady,  17,  354 
Malmesbury,  1st  Earl  of,  5,  13,  18, 

234-236 
Malmesbury,  2nd  Earl  of,  22 
Manning,  Cardinal,  31,  380-385 
Manningham,  John,  16,  17,  24,  112- 

114 
Marehant,  Thomas,  13,  196-197 
Martyn,  Henry,  16,  39,  332-335 
Matthews,  Henry,  355-357 
Melcombe,     Lord     (see    Dodington, 

George  Bubb) 
MiUar,  W.  S.,  23,  39 
Mitchell,  J.,  vii 
Montaigne,  76 

Moore,  Giles,  19,  20,  125-128 
Moore,  Sir  John,  vii 
Mordamit,  Sir  Charles,  23 
More,  John,  26,  147-8 

Newcombe,  Henry,   14,   15,   16,   39, 

128-131 
Nugent,  Lady,  15,  29,  35,  328-331 

Oliver,  Peter,  252 

Ossington,    Viscount    (see    Denison, 
John  Evelyn). 

Pease,  Edward,  6,  376-379 

Pepys,  Samuel,  6,  13,  14,  15,  17,  19, 

20,  25,  34,  36,  82-95,  96,  97,  146, 

202 
Percival,  Viscount  (see  Egmont,  Earl 

of). 
Ponsonby,  Colonel  A.,  13,  397-400 
Ponsonby,     Sarah     (see    Ladies    of 

Llangollen) 
Powys,  Mrs.,  252-3 

Raikes,  Thomas,  21,  35,  369-371 

Rickman,  Edward,  357 

Robinson,  Heiu-y  Crabb,  6,  17,  21, 

36,  344-349 
Rooke,  Admiral  Sir  G«orge,  251 
Rose,  George,  13,  327-8 
Rous,  John,  24,  116-118 
Rugge,  T.,  6,  152 

Rutland,  John  Manners,  Earl  of,  154 
Rutty,  Dr.,  6,  13,  14,  26,  216-220 


INDEX 


447 


Scott,  Captain,  27-28 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  vii 

Senior,  Nassau,  5,  396-397 

Shelley,  Frances,  Lady,  39,  318-320 

Shelley,  Mary,  15,  19,  349-352 

Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe,  349,  350 

Slingsby,  Sir  Henry,  15,  26,  34,  76-81 

Smith,  Thomas,  23 

Stapley,  Richard,  19,  155 

Stevens,  Edwin,  23 

Strother,  5,  237-241 

Swabey,  Lieutenant,  342-344 

Swift,  J.,  vii 

Symonds,  J.  A.,  11,  14,  39,  407-411 

Tennyson,  Lord,  4 
Teonge,  Henry,  15,  39,  107-111 
Thomlinson,  John,  10,  197-200 
Thoresby,  Ralph,  13,  16,  21,  36,  134- 

136 
Tolstoy,  10 


Turner,  Thomas,  5, 15,  39,  227-231 

Victoria,  Queen,  6,  20,  25,  29,  36, 
288-299 

Walsingham,  Sir  Francis,  66-68 
Wesley,  John,  13,  36,  38,  156-163 
West,  Sir  Algernon,  viii  [note) 
West,  Arthur  Graeme,  3,  39,  428-432 
Wilberforce,  Bishop,  35,  385-389 
Willoughby  de  Broke,  Lord,  23 
Windham,  Lieut. -General  Sir  Charles, 

400-403 
Windham,  William,  6,  12,  13,  19,  31, 

181,  184-192 
Worthington,  John,  20 
Wynne,  Frances,  24,  422 

Yerburgh,  H.  B.,  23 
Younger,  Walter,  21 


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